


The Society of Romulus and Remus

by worldwidecupcake



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:44:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7029121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldwidecupcake/pseuds/worldwidecupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ludwig is the product of a centuries old curse that transforms him into a dangerous werewolf. His only chance for a cure is with Feliciano, heir to the Society of Romulus and Remus, a group of hunters who hunt on the supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me starting a new story. Woo. Since my main focus is Feliciano and the King of Hearts. I’ll be EXTREMELY slow with this one (I’ll probably only update once a month until I finish Feliciano and the King of Hearts). I had the first chapter ready and though I could post it. Please be patient with this one, and I hope you enjoy!

It’s fitting to say once upon a time, in a little village in Germanic land, where such a Heinrich Beilschmidt lived. Coming from such a family of wealth and nobility, he was spoiled from the moment of his birth, never a fault to his wishes, treated and respected like he was prince of his kingdom. It only taught him to be selfish, rotten, unkind to everyone who served him or worked for him, treating them all like dirt and more like slaves than servants or dignitaries. 

On a extravagant trip to Italy, where he overdosed his wants, paraded and had taken what he wanted in great disrespect, did he met a very young little girl. His carriage had run over the young girl’s dog, one that she had loved, adored, and had learned to take care of herself. She had demanded from Heinrich an apology or a sort of payment for the loss of her best friend, but the German noble had denied her wish and continued on his trip, ignorant to the little girl’s suffering. 

What a big mistake, and what great anger had awaken in the girl that day. 

Despite her small years, she grew vengeful, her power peaked in great force, expected of someone who had inheritance of gods. She managed to meet him just before he was set to return back to Germany. Before he was to striker her, to move her away, the girl had revealed an intricate wolf mark on the palm of her hand, glowing golden right before the eyes of the noble. He remembered her words clear: 

“An animal you are, and an animal you will become. A change will take you, punishment that will show your true ferocity, you true monster. It will decorate you in the blackest fur, heighten stature to create shadows of fear, vicious teeth, red piercing eyes, and the loss of control and sense. All around will suffer in your wrath and you will be death. A duty to befall on all your blood, spread for many years to come. Suffer your consequence and let it fully remind you at any passing of the sun and moon, forever. Only the 13th of my line to hold it, with the Venetian mark, the Bronze stare, the Eros curl, the blood of the land of beauty, and the giving of the truest love. Sealed, given, by the power of Mars and only the 13th to stop it.” 

The nobleman had felt a sudden force and a heavy pain in his heart. He though the girl had stabbed him with a knife, but just like the girl, the pain suddenly disappeared, no marks or blood stains on his body. He looked around him and no sign of the girl was left. Thinking her words a silly rhyme, he left on the route back home, where her words began to take life. 

It started with a sudden shake, one that had the nobleman thinking it had been an earthquake, but the tremble only continued for himself. A maid in the room had tried to help him still, but it continued. The maid saw as the words of the young girl turned true right before her. Decorated in black fur, a heightened stature that created a shadow that draped the maid entirely, elongated vicious teeth, piercing red eyes and the need to attack, to prey and kill. 

The maid was the first victim of a continuous string of deaths that fell under the fault of his claws and hunger. It came back over and over, not only at the full of the moon, but even at the brightest sun. Even as he hid, even as he tried to find a cure, made families, locked himself up, there was no escape by the change his body was forced to endure time and time again. 

In every peace he found, no matter the kindness he grew, how he was there for his children, grandchildren, to his death, the burden continued for generations and generations, a family of monsters that were tainted by the cruelness of an ancestor, pushing forward a number of kills that their great grandfather started. 

Legends were already told in the area, of a big black wolf monster that had existed for years, terrorizing and only seeking the blood of all who inhabited the areas it decided to hunt. A tale that spread as the Beilschmidts moved and tried to find a cure, but no avail, they feared they were doomed to live like this and for their own to pass it on for as time let them continue on. 

Black monsters, skin and blood caught in their talons and teeth, with growls, with huffs, maddened red eyes, that will pounce, that will take you, run, run, run, run, run. 

Feliciano awoke, eyes widened to meet with the scented candle he had light up upon his bedside desk. He sat up, noticing how dark it still was outside, the clock on the wall reading 4:16 a.m. 

It was a constant dream awake in Feliciano’s mind for as long as he could remember. It came to haunt him once every certain amount of months, like a reminder. He didn’t know for what and sometimes he thought it was just his mind making scenarios, fearing the day he would have to become a slayer like the rest of his family and how they had been for centuries now. 

He remembered as a child waking up with big jolts, crying loudly enough to have everyone in the household coming to his room, to later end up sleeping with either his grandparents, parents or his brother. Now, he would awake from it in utter peace, a couple of breaths, a drink of water, a look to his brother sleeping on the bed on the other side of the room and he was good enough to continue to lay and sleep. But this night in particular, he actually lay thinking about the dream. He stood and headed over to the window, seeing that the night held a full moon, it’s shine enough to light up the entire woods in clear blue, nothing missed from Feliciano’s eyesight. He looked up, to the moon specifically, and was reminded of his teaching concerning the awakening of werewolves. Many of the ones their family had encountered tended to change under a moon much like this one. 

The Beilschmidts, the family that was constant in that dream, were they turning now? Were they killing? Were they chasing people down to their deaths? He trembled in fear, and could only find peace once he looked down to the mark in his hand. The Venetian wolf they called this specific mark, for most of the Venetian side of the family held it. It was a rare one in which the wolf mark started at the palm of his hand, yet twisted down to his wrist, like the wolf was a mist or a ghost trying to fly off. Feliciano had adored it since childhood, but it began to dim once he knew its significance. 

He was a guardian, entrusted by the very gods to protect the people of the earth from threats such as the werewolf family of the Beilschmidts. He was to face these monsters, bravely, kill them without mercy and with all the vengefulness as if they had killed a dear brother. He shook, he whimpered, he held to his hands, covering the mark, covering what would be his destiny. He turned back to his bed, hoping that sleep could calm him from the coming worry. 

He didn’t know if this family even existed, maybe it was just one his mind had created to channel his fear of becoming a hunter. He was afraid to tell his family, fearing that they would only train him, to actually find this family so he could face them. No, no, they did not exist. He won’t do anything, to them and the future his family was expecting of him. He would not learn any of their magic, of their weaponry skills, of their levels, of their awards, of all the classes of monsters Feliciano hated having nightmares about. No potions, no spells, not even curses. He would have nothing to do with the Society of Romulus and Remus. 

 

Although it was the early hours of the morning, it had been a rainy night and clouds still hung, darkening the day. Ludwig, wearing dark pants, jacket, scarf and even beanie, was not the person you wanted to meet in these deserted and dirty alleys, especially with an hour and day that matched well with his stride. A near woman who had been watering her plants, hid back into her home upon seeing him, not trusting the Beilschmidt at all. Ludwig didn’t bother, he was used to getting these kinds of reactions. 

His home, at least for now, was a small basement space that the owner of the building decided to rent to him and his brother. It was small; one bathroom, one room, one everything that Ludwig and Gilbert had to squish and try to make a normal living out of. It was hard with the little space and the other hundred things they carried with each other. It was a lot for a couple of brothers who were constant moving around France, Belgium, the Netherlands, England, Austria, Spain, Poland, and of course, their homeland, Germany. 

It piled each time, one that Gilbert didn’t bother to clean. They moved constantly, what was the point? Still, Ludwig hated having to push the door harshly because of a stack of books behind it, looking like he was trying to break in, which didn’t help with the burglar image his neighbors had of him. He was met with the noise of the small busted television Gilbert was watching, resting on the sofa, eating a pint of Ice Cream, wearing a dirty shirt and his boxer shorts. He looked absolutely disgusting, but at least he matched with the rest of the apartment. 

“I assume neither have called you,” 

“Nope,” like nothing, just changed the channel and continued with his spoonfuls. 

As expected. Job offers were rarely given to them. With such mysterious pasts, barely any information papers or identifications and coming from towns or cities that had just witnessed another horrible kill by what seemed a beast. 

Ludwig hanged his coat by an old rack, where he also placed his beanie, trying to straighten his hair back, going to the kitchen to find something to eat. It was hard when they barely had anything and their hidden hunger wanted something else. 

“Where were you anyway? You were gone all night,” he managed to say between bites. “Did you change?” He looked to him, for once away from the hypnotized grab the television had of him, paranoid worry, even sitting straighter in his position, begging eyes on his little brother. 

“No I did not,” he settled on picking a yogurt cup, indifferent to his brother’s reaction. 

He took his seat right next to him on the sofa, peeling the container open and beginning his breakfast. Gilbert sigh in relief and settled back. 

“So, where were you?” 

“The archives,” 

“Not this again,” Gilbert rolled his eyes, “This is like, what? The third time we come here for those silly papers. You found nothing the first two times, why keep bothering?” 

Ludwig didn’t say anything, unlike other times where he went on with the next trip they should make to keep finding some clues. He was relaxed, continued with his yogurt until it was all done. He took out an old piece of parchment from one of his front pockets, and held it out in reach for Gilbert to clearly see. 

“Recently found in one of our great grandfather’s old houses, it’s about a trip he took right where he was cursed.” 

“Yes, a trip to Spain, we’ve been told that like a thousand times from the family.” 

“It wasn’t a trip to Spain,” he threw the paper over for him to take, careful, for it was old enough to dust into the wind easily. 

Gilbert tried to read the very old style German, words and sentences practically unrecognizable, but he got the gist, and by the end of it, it was clear. 

“It was in Italy,” Gilbert raised his gaze to Ludwig, impressed. 

“We’d been looking in the wrong country this entire time,” and that was disappointing. 

To know that they had wasted dear and precious time in the place that it wasn’t, that all their time in Spain in the end was fruitless and now all that hard work, would have to be started and given to a whole new country. 

“Any more leads?” 

“I think if we-” 

“You think? Luddy, I think what we need is solid proof here. This is getting tiring, I’m sick of these wild goose chases. We’ve been doing this for most of our lives and I just want a clear answer. No more names with no addresses or wasting our time with families that had nothing to do with this. I want a final goal, I want our next trip to bring us right on the 13th’s doorsteps,” and Ludwig could only remain silent. 

Gilbert already understood that he was not going to listen to the answer he wanted. He sigh disappointedly, dropping the paper to the coffee table, along with another mess of old archives he had been looking at before he tire from it and settled on watching TV. He rubbed a hand through his face and hair, preparing himself for what Ludwig was sure to tell him. 

“What do you think?” he asked, a pain in his voice that made Ludwig feel it himself. 

He choked it down and answered. “I think, if we head over to the town where he got cursed, it might give us some clue.” 

Another move, another trip, what else was he to expect. 

“With what train tickets? What money? Wha-” 

Ludwig threw a messed wrapped ball of euros unto the table. Gilbert lay surprise, yet that face quickly turned into intrigue, even proudness. 

“How did you-” 

“Don’t ask.” 

He got the idea and did not question any further. All that was left was to pack all this mess, leave their last payment and head off to Italy. 

To be honest, they had been quite interested in going for some time. Who knows, maybe they’ll have time to tour around and enjoy from it…which was rare for their lifestyle. 

 

It took them a bus ride, a train, and the renting of an old and colorful vespa to get to the small village, Apricale. Although yes, it was a beautiful little town, the typical Italian scene, greenery and placed among the hill just right. It wasn’t the big touristic places of Florence, Rome, Milan or even Genoa. It was not some beach and resort paradise with parading tourists taking pictures of everything in sight. It was calm, barely any presence in the streets, and if there was, surely long living inhabitants, going through their normal daily routine, paying no mind to the two new visitors. 

How did their great grandfather find this place and even enjoyment? It didn’t seem like the place they heard he feasted in greed before getting cursed. Surely things must have changed. 

They were taken by the beauty of the village, their hidden identities wanting to let their paws pave all the streets, see more, feast on some exquisite Italian cuisine and perhaps a defenseless human being. A shake, a stabiling and that idea was off their minds. They came here for information. 

The letter Ludwig had found in Neufeld mentioned the house he had stayed in, directions that he hoped wouldn’t be so hard to find after centuries of change. 

Ludwig noticed the hungry look Gilbert gave an array of pastries from the windows of a small bakery, a restaurant close by, and then the handsome men and women. Ludwig had to pull him by a hard grasp on his arm, heading deep into the village, loosing themselves in directions of old crumbling houses and forgotten streets that saw human presence for the first time in years. Their biggest clue, which they found by the late evening, was nothing but old broken bricks and woodened planks. Dust filled the floor and even fell from whatever walls parts still stood, causing a song of coughs from both the brother as they searched through the remains. 

The day was darkening and Gilbert was finding this fruitless. He long gave up, sat by an old wall and left his eyes on his younger brother, who continued to dirty his hands by moving everything to not let a single spot unseen. 

“Give up,” Gilbert groaned, exhausted, “there’s nothing in here”. 

But Ludwig continued, ignoring him, clearly for Gilbert to notice. Gilbert rolled his eyes and didn’t bother. He sloped against the wall, placed his hoodie over his head and made himself ready for a nap. Ludwig continued, more minutes of only dust and nothing, angering him, the frustration worsening in the growing force of his throwing and growling. Gilbert perked up from his nap, the signs Ludwig was showing not good at all. With a powerful kick, it seemed like he had given up, ready to turn away, huff angrily and embark on another search for another far away clue. 

Gilbert let the great amount of dust settle, hoping to see his brother between the haze. He slowly appeared like he was walking out of a mist, despite how still and stiff he stood. Gilbert began moving forward to him, hoping to ease him with a simple hand on his shoulder, soothing. Ludwig looked like he usually did just before he turned and right now was not the time for it. 

“Down, settle,” Gilbert started, a lullaby of calming words their family had in hopes to hold their transformations. 

It usually worked heavenly, but this time, Ludwig seemed to be blocking the words. As Gilbert searched in his head for more, an image instead caught his attention, a stop to his strings of words once he noticed it. He turned Ludwig towards it and suddenly there was a spark, an interest, movement, all his being dedicated to looking at this symbol and trying to figure out what it was. 

It was imprinted on the floor, on a single tile, the only one even after Gilbert and Ludwig dusted the area completely. In the past, it must have been painted in the darkest color available, but now, with its age, it was beginning to fade, but just enough for the design to be clear to them. It was extremely similar to that one drawing their family had passed down by generations, made by their great grandfather who had started the curse. They didn’t have much explanation about it, but only that it had to do with the person who cursed them in the first place. The symbol of a wolf, surely a symbol of the family the little girl who cursed them belong to. The figure of their monsters, just the clue they needed to find here. 

“We have to ask around the village,” Ludwig suggested. 

He had calmed slightly, but his arm was trembling, fear in his eyes, his other arm holding the other, hoping to stop himself from continuing, from turning. 

“You’re changing.” Gilbert knew, it was happening, at a stage that nothing could do to stop it. 

Ludwig’s hand began to blacken, fur began to slowly grow, as well as sharp claws, ready for the capture of a new prey. They had to move before it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would be slow with this story (And I will be), but I just have so much free time and welp, here have the second chapter sooner than anticipated. I hope you enjoy!

“That’s one of the Vargas seals,” a local man was telling them. 

Gilbert and Ludwig had ripped the tile from the floors and began showing it around. Many of the elders knew, but they all suggested they went to this man in particular. His grandfather had worked in the household. 

“They were rich enough to own two of our largest houses. You two probably found this tile in the one they turned into an inn. They had a particularity of inviting the oddest fellows to these parts.” Surely it was the place their great grandfather had stayed in his visit. 

“Could you take us to them?” Gilbert asked. 

“To the Vargas?” 

“Yes!” 

“They left the village almost a hundred years ago.” 

They both groaned and felt like smashing their heads against the near wall. 

“Any idea where they headed to?” Ludwig still hoped on. 

“I’m not exactly sure. The last generation who lived here moved after their only daughter married a southerner. Last everyone here heard, they left to Venice and joined themselves with other roots of the family. Made great wealth and some say they might still be there.” 

They were told just enough. 

They thanked the man for his words, took their Vespa and made way to a near train station. They needed to get to Venice immediately. 

Hearing Venice reminded them of part of the cure to their curse. It mentions the Venetian Mark. The Venetian Mark? The old man did tell them that the seal was only one of the Vargas marks. There was more? How could they know which was the Venetian Mark? They saw Venice as their way of finding out. 

 

Venice was one of those many cities Ludwig had hoped to visit. He imagined himself visiting like another German tourist, taking picture, staying at fancy hotels, pleasant gondola rides and strolling through whatever street available looking for a mask shop to buy one as a souvenir. The curse rejected him such luxuries, and the dream dwindled along with any other chances of having a normal life. But here he was, on a beautiful afternoon, the water of the canal alive still with use of sightseeing boats and gondoliers on their work. Despite the darkening and the few dim lights of the sunset, street lamps, homes and stores, there was a glow to it that made it as shinning as if it was the early morning. Another Italian city he wanted to loose himself in, forget about his mission and simply stroll contently, take in the night, even the disgusting smell that grounded him exactly to where he was. Gilbert had to constantly snap his fingers at his face to get them continuing on their journey. 

They paid a common gondolier on his usual work day to take them around the city. Anywhere, everything if this person could. They ended up paying extra as the time was extended, but they were indeed taken through every canal available. 

“Is there something specific you both are looking for?” The gondolier asked, tired, his rowing slow from exhaustion. 

They were reaching one of the last corners, the last canals, the darkness of the late night reaching them, yet not a symbol of wolves or plates reading ‘Vargas’ in any of the old or even newer houses. 

At the gondolier’s words, Ludwig and Gilbert did not know how to reply, if to even show them the tile they had gotten from Apricale. What kind of reaction would he give? Would he ask why they have this? But what if he knew something? Surely a gondolier who knew all the canals could tell them about a family that surely would have lived there for several years now. 

Decided, Gilbert took a wrapped handkerchief from his coat pocket, Ludwig took it and unwrapped, the symbol instantly shown to the gondolier. The widened eyes worried them, even more so when he settled down to their spot, taking a closer look, even taking the tile from their hands to better examine. 

“We’re looking for the Vargas,” Ludwig told him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asked, a change of tone in his voice. Fear, yet interest, like a child who was curious to know about monsters. 

“Apricale, little village in Genova,” Gilbert said. 

It only increased his wonder, now starring at the tile like it was some rare jewel. “So it is true.” 

“What is?” Ludwig asked, rather desperately, inching closer to the man, wanting to hear more if he had it available. 

The gondolier gazed strongly to both the men, up and down, their features, their clothes, trying to undress them in his mind even. They didn’t seem at all like how the Vargas were usually described. They were too pale, not a hair of brunette, and no shine of either brown or green to their eyes. 

“The Vargas were once larger,” he told them. 

“Once?” 

“Yes, it was like a branch, spread all across Italy. Some lived in Sicily, others in Liguria, in Tuscany, Naples, Lazio, Venice of course.” He looked around him as to show them they were indeed there, a proudness to have his city part of it, a big part of it actually. “But as the years passed, they lessened, began to disappear one by one as they kept uniting and trying to stay in one place. Some say they might have been running away from something, probably because of debt, targeted for their wealth. It was never clear.” He stood and took his usual platform, his pole, and began rowing them again. “The last trace left from them is actually here.” That truly perked the brother’s interest, sitting straight and preparing themselves like he was to take them right to the Vargas. 

“Fifteen years ago, their youngest member was born…” it took him a couple of minutes, of turns and hidden buildings to arrive there. It was lively and inhabited, and they arrived just in time to see a woman shut a window for the night. “Right here,” he pointed to a home block, well taken care of even with its age. Surely a new family was living there, peacefully without the knowledge of the history that took place there. “They left shortly after his birth, put this up for sale and didn’t even leave a word to where they were heading, but…” he questioned if he should continue. 

It was a fantasy, surely a story people told their children to keep them confident in the dark, scenarios in the people’s head, unbelievable to foreign strangers. Maybe not a clue, maybe of no worth to these men, but the blue and red eyes still begged on for more, even these silly tales. 

“There’s…rumors, about how they got their wealth. What they really did, the meaning of their symbols…” he took a glance to the home once again, where they all noticed a particular mark, a similar wolf symbol to the one in tile, but clearly different.

Ludwig wanted to hope it was the Venetian mark. He remembered it well. 

“Many of us believe they were hunters.” 

“What kind of hunters?” Gilbert asked, truly interested now. “Like bears, ducks, foxes, rabbits,” he guessed. 

“Ghosts,” the gondolier started, “vampires, demons, sirens, any nightmare you can think of.” 

He usually lost people here, yet these men still listened on, hearing about them like they were any other animal. 

“Their specialty though, werewolves.” 

And now truly they were taken, a brightening of their eyes that the gondolier even found suspicious. 

“The hunting and taming of werewolves is what placed them high and made the leaders of the family,” 

“Why is that? Why werewolves specifically?” 

“I’m not entirely sure, some say it was to do with family tragedy, other say it’s just a liking and others think it might have to do with their lineage,” 

“Lineage? To who?” 

“Romulus and Remus.” 

 

Ludwig knew the legend or myth of Romulus and Remus well. Of course he did. As a child and growing up with the type of cursed family he had, he learned to be closed when he needed to, only in the company of the hundreds of books he was given. Many of them talked about Ancient Greece and Rome, their histories, their culture and their myths. His childhood wasn’t the eventful playfulness and laughter other people talked about, but the quietness of a moving home library and the wonderment of these scenes and figures in his head. He still kept many of those books and brought them up with him on his continuous search for the cure. He had one specific book on Romulus and Remus, one he knew he had located somewhere in the horde of books they always brought with themselves. Yes, it was well accommodated into the pile specifically for Rome. He easily recognized the cover and threw it over for Gilbert to see. Hopefully he would actually read what he told him to. 

While Gilbert did so, Ludwig had his lunch, a soup bowl he had microwaved in the one their hotel room had brought. He was half way through it when Gilbert finally asked. “So these two dudes suckled once from a wolf?” Was his only question, to which Ludwig nodded. 

Gilbert kept on reading but didn’t find anything else about wolves or vampires or whatever else that could give reason for the supposed descendants of Romulus and Remus to become supernatural hunters. “And that’s it?” 

“Seems like it,” 

“This doesn’t help at all,” he threw the book over to a different pile. Ludwig would have to put it in its place later. 

“One of them founded Rome you know,” he wanted to add. 

“So, what does that tell us? It’s just a myth after all, probably didn’t even happen.” 

Ludwig groaned, finishing his soup bowl and standing to clean whatever trash Gilbert had thrown earlier when he had eaten. 

“If a trace of their lineage still lives to this day, then a part of it must be true,” 

“The gondolier said that it was just rumors,” 

“Then explain the wolf symbols,” 

“Maybe they just like wolves,” 

“There has to be an alternate reason.” 

The room was brought into silence as Ludwig thought about it, in a concentration that not even Gilbert wanted to break. He picked his book yet again and began to look through it, hoping to get an inspiration of what they could do next. It was the same information he had read over and over again and had practically memorized at this point. Gilbert was right, the only proof of wolves in Romulus and Remus life was the she wolf they suckled, and nothing else hinted to the supernatural but their relation to Mars as their father.

He thought to the curse, which he remembered mentions ‘by the power of mars’. He though specifically to the gods, to Romulus and Remus’s birth, who were cast away, the animals that nurtured them seen as a blessing from the gods to survive until they were finally found by their adoptive parents. 

If this wolf was sent from the gods, then there must be something more to it than just a simple suckling.

He though to another book he possessed that talked about the creation of myths, how for hundreds of years were past on orally before it was finally printed on paper. Things were taken, added, changed until they were unrecognizable from the original. If someone was going to know the real story, something told him only the Vargas would know. 

It was still not enough to know how they could find them. 

One thing was clear. Werewolves were their man trophies, their specialization and main focus. Wherever one was there to cause havoc and danger, surely they would be there to stop it. 

“I have an idea.” 

 

“This is a terrible idea!” Gilbert whispered from their hidden spot in between bushes and trees. 

It was a bright night, mainly because of the large full moon that glowed on the farm land. It was the perfect night to hunt down a couple of werewolves, even though Ludwig and Gilbert were not affected at all by the full moon. 

“I can assure you it’s better than trying to decipher an ancient myth,” Ludwig whispered beside him, analyzing the terrain with tall grass, great for the sheep and goats that fed from it or used as a bed for their rest. 

“How can we even do this if we don’t know how to control our turning?” Gilbert was clearly terrified to try. 

“I have a guess,” he said, leaning closer to the opening they had, daring to even smell the air around him. “One, we can just stay here and wait until either of us change, or, we try out my theory,” 

“Your theory?” 

After the many times he had changed throughout his life, also the ones he had seen from his family members, he hypothesized that certain events and emotions triggered an immediate turning. If he could get Gilbert to rile him up enough to turn, he would cause the innocent havoc he needed to lure hunters to this spot. Gilbert will make sure that he didn’t dare move further or attack anywhere else outside this farm land. 

“Punch me,” he suddenly said. 

“Punch you?” 

“Yes, punch me, as hard as you can,” 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Gilbert, please, this could work!” 

“How exactly is a punch going to help?!” 

“Our turnings must be linked to our emotions and defenses. If we trigger them enough, I’ll get an instant turning and we’ll be able to do this.” 

Ludwig moved and prepared himself for the coming attack. Gilbert was yet hesitant. He, Ludwig and the rest of their family hated these turnings, had tried for several generations to try and stop them, and even now Ludwig and he were out trying to find that sweet cure. To call out to this, call out the monster that had taken so much from them and had taken from others, was like betraying whatever morality their human side held that usually gave them back their control.

Gilbert hesitantly raised his arm, shaking noticeably, clearly not in the want to do this. This was for a cure, this was for a cure, he repeated to himself, placing his aim, throwing his arm back, hoping to get a greater force. 

“You bet your ass this better work,” he said lastly before he went right at it and punched him right in the face. 

It was enough to have Ludwig drop unto the floor, to have his face bulging in pain, already reddened and ready to grow a purple bruise. Yet no growing black fur, no monstrous teeth, no vicious claw and no growling and howls to the moon. 

“Keep going,” Ludwig stuttered, trying to sit to face him again. 

“What? I thought that would be enough!” 

“It wasn’t, you have to-” so Gilbert obeyed and punched again. 

Nothing, and Ludwig still kept on insisting. How he wished he could have done this when they were younger and Ludwig had taken the last chocolate bar that was meant for him. 

He fought on and on with him, to the point that Gilbert though he had given him permanent damage. When he noticed that Ludwig was not speaking anymore, he stopped, moved away, his fists hurting from the pounding. His brother was a hard person, goddammit. 

“Hey, hey,” he called, but all Ludwig did was groan back in return. “Well turns out your theory turned out to be of no use,” Gilbert was too preoccupied with his injured hand to notice that Ludwig had fallen silent, and his body began to tremble. 

“Gilbert…” Ludwig managed to say, a growl to it that got Gilbert’s attention, turning now with impression. Was it actually working? It was! 

He saw as Ludwig’s hands turned into darkened paws with fierce claws, already digging into the ground. The blackening grew and grew until it covered well his body and began to turn his human features into those of an angry and hungry wolf. 

“Holy shit, it worked!” Gilbert exclaimed, moving back, watching as the rest of Ludwig’s transformation continued, until finally he was complete and he was standing still in their hiding spot. 

The huffs that escaped from his breath alone was terrifying enough and already had Gilbert quivering, holding to the bark of a tree to keep him stable. He didn’t faint or run because he was used to this. He had seen Ludwig several times in this form and usually tried his best to keep him anchored. It didn’t mean that it worked most of the time. 

“Ludwig…” he tried calling. 

Ludwig did not spare him a glance, but remained his red eyes looking to the prey of the goats and sheep that still lingered on unaware. He didn’t do anything to Gilbert due to his scent of familiarity and bloodline, ignored as if he was just another tree in his surroundings. 

“Just the farm land, give someone a scare, and that’s it,” Gilbert tried to remind him. 

He did not know if it worked or not, for Ludwig had dashed forward and began his wild hunting. His pacing was so hard that he made rocks and dirt fly off, shaking the ground and alerting the animals of the monstrous presence. They ran, cries and wailings of which no help was given. The werewolf had caught many of them in the grasp of his teeth, so easy to bite down, crack bones and let the blood decorate easily down his muzzle and body. Gilbert cringed seeing this, wanting to vomit, knowing the horrible taste he would get once he turned back, not to mention the guilt and the stomach pain that usually followed. But their werewolf side did not care about this, it only wanted to be fed, it only wanted to inflict fear, it only wanted to run wild in the moment and continue to want it’s fur decorated in more and more blood. 

“Cosa sta succedendo qui?” Gilbert heard a man call, turning on the lights of the house, the clank of locks opening, alerting of his soon outing to see. 

Just what they wanted, it was Gilbert’s time to move. 

He headed closer to the home, hiding between the shadows, watching as the old man came outside, a lantern in his hand to light up the surrounding dark areas. 

“Ciao! Ciao!” He called, hoping to be answered. 

The agonizing crunching from afar stopped, the beast’s ears perked at the calling, and then scent of human flesh, which attracted the werewolf the most. What was left of the goat he was eating he threw to the floor and instead settled his instincts on the hunting of this human. He made his aim, prepared his pace, and without much of a warning, headed over to the man, claws extending, ready for the jump he was to take to have him in one bite. Just a little closer, just a little closer. 

The old man screamed, he had seen him, that was just enough. 

Gilbert picked a near shovel and just before the man was caught in the grasps of the monster, Gilbert swung the item and hit the approaching beast right in the face. Ludwig fell to the floor, but Gilbert continued his hits until no trace of movement was seen from the wolf form of his brother. Gilbert paid no attention to the man that was right behind him, left stupefied by what he saw before him.

Once his hits were done and he knew he had gotten Ludwig unconscious enough, he threw the shovel to the ground, breathing and trying to calm himself. He was honestly tired. 

The old man still remained as he were, looking to Gilbert as if he was a ghost right before him. It didn’t help when he was just as pale, with albino white hair and red eyes. 

“Sir, you’re lucky I was even here,” he told him in his accented English. He hoped he understood enough. “Now, let me just get this rid for you,” he took the creature into his arms and shoulders, and began hauling it out of the house and farmland. “You should call someone about this,” he told him last before he disappeared into the trees. 

Even from afar he could hear the old man give a loud shrill that surely would have been heard for miles around. Took him a lot to react. He shut the door closed, surely put on like hundreds of locks and went to call someone about what had happened. 

Wow, Ludwig’s plan actually worked.


	3. Chapter 3

Ludwig was still groaning, laying on the hotel bed with a new pair of baby chick pajamas, courtesy of Gilbert, with an ice bag over his face, feeling nauseated and about to go to the bathroom again to throw up for probably…the third time. 

“This was your idea,” Gilbert commented as he read from some gossip magazine in peace. 

“I know it was. I just wished these weren’t the repercussions.” 

He tried to sit up, a feat in the state that he was in. It took a lot of will to be able to just be awake right now. “Have you checked the local news?” Ludwig reminded him. 

“I checked earlier and nothing, let me see this time,” he grabbed his phone and refreshed the site. 

A simple scrolling later and he identified the old man in a header picture, with others of the large wolf-like footprints, plus some of the dead or wounded animals. 

“We got something,” he showed the article to Ludwig, who forced himself to read from the screen. It worsened his headache but it was worth it. 

 

“I thought we were done with this place,” Gilbert whispered, from once again the same spot they had hidden the night before. 

“That was merely the beginning.” 

It simply earned a groan from Gilbert. He was already tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep back at the hotel and probably find a bar to get drunk on and hopefully not suffer a turn. He hated how readily Ludwig already looked on, for any hint of…whatever it was that he was looking for. Luckily he was cured of pretty much everything now. If there was something good about their werewolf power, it was the ability to easily heal any harm they received after their turning. Sure it didn’t happen as quickly as they hoped, but usually by the next day they shone as if nothing had ever happened. 

Surely by the scare he had gotten, the old man had left the farm land and brought along with him several of the surviving animals to some other place. Indeed no presence was there this time but theirs. It became rather eerie, with only the sounds of the night and not even a single light from the house to provide them with some sort of humanly comfort. Time continued, the moon arose higher in the sky, their ears did not catch the distant sound of cars, the air became rather chilly and the comfort of the ground and sleeping began to seem more welcoming then continuing to wait for what seemed like nothing. Gilbert was already dozed off, finding comfort in the bark of the tree he laid upon. He wished he would have brought a pillow from the hotel. 

Ludwig was close to joining his brother, but forced himself awake with the prospect of seeing something no matter the bags and the redness in his eyes. His body was begging for rest, and it seemed to be slowly pulling him to the ground, finally close to welcoming it, but the distant sound of a motor held him back awake. His body arose with a jolt, eyes widened and attentive to the new presence that was approaching. The motor sound came closer and closer, until he saw them arrive right at the gates of the field. He slapped Gilbert awake and then placed his hand on his mouth so he wouldn’t make any sudden noises. 

Gilbert saw two motorcycles arrive, nice and posh ones in a clean black with silver symbols on them too far away to notice. The riders, with black helmets, black boots, black pants, black coats, and black gloves were hard to spot between the very blackness they were surrounded, but they headed down and inspected around the area with such an ease, as if they were a part of it. They pointed and walked without the help of a light, and dared venture unafraid to even the opposite woods. 

“Can you hear them?” Gilbert whispered. 

“Faintly.” Ludwig had been trying to decipher their speech ever since they arrived. 

They didn’t venture that deep into the forest and returned with their helmets off. One of them was a woman, with long blackened curly hair, her companion a man with light brown parted hair, and a peculiar curl sticking out that almost looked squared. 

“They’re speaking in Italian,” Ludwig could tell. 

They advanced forward to the house, surely to look for the clear footprints Ludwig had left behind. They talked on, pointing the various other clues left. 

“It must be them,” Ludwig whispered. 

“Who are them?” 

“The Vargas!” He dared inch closer, but he was held in place by Gilbert’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Careful, we can’t be sure,” 

“It has to be, why else would they be here and searching for these things specifically,” 

“If they are who they are, then let me remind you that they’re hunters,” Gilbert old him with serious intent, hoping his little brother could understand his worry. 

“I doubt they’ll easily tell were werewolves,” 

“The gondolier said that their specialized in them, what if they call tell something about us?” Gilbert still maintained a hard grip on him, but Ludwig still looked on to the duo expectantly. 

“Gilbert, this is a chance to know about the cure,” he wanted to try and convince. 

“What point will it have if you get killed in the process?” 

“I rather die than continue living like this,” he pulled himself out of his hold and left their hiding spot, walking out clear in the field for surely the two figures to see. 

At noticing the sudden presence, their hands quickly went to their sashes and pockets, but when they saw that it was only another human, they removed their hands before they scared him off with their weapons. Ludwig waved, trying to seem as harmless and normal as possible as he approached ever closer to them. The two hunters decided to approach him, although carefully, it was quite odd to meet with someone out of nowhere in the sighting of a werewolf attack. 

“I saw what happened,” Ludwig had begun. 

The two hunters exchanged glances of approval, trusting this man with their presence for more useful information on how to find this new threat. 

“Are you the ghost man that had attacked it and saved the old man?” The woman asked, her accent deeply heard. At least they knew how to speak English. 

“Actually, that was me,” Gilbert decided to head out, walking forward to join his brother. He wanted to be close to him if something happened. 

The hunters took a good look at him, seeing that he matched precisely the description the old man had given. “You took the creature didn’t you?” The man asked. 

“Yes, I did. My brother and I are vacationing here and we were hiking around the area. We got lost and were trying to find our way back to a road. We found this place and were about to ask the man for help when we met with that thing,” he told. 

Ludwig admired how truthful he sounded, surely something Gilbert had learned to do well with various occurrences in their past. 

“Where did you take it?” The man begged, ready to go the place Gilbert would soon mention. 

“I left it over near a clearing and was about to go ask for help, sadly when I returned it was gone.” 

They both groaned. They though having the tale of these two men would have helped, but it seemed they would go on with their usual long taking and agitating searches. “And what about you?” he asked Ludwig, who remained awfully silent as still as his brother made up the story. He hesitated and tried to think of a successful excuse. Gilbert caught up before him. 

“He was so scared, he peed his pants.” 

The hunters couldn’t remain serious and laughed, Gilbert joining along while Ludwig stayed indifferent, glaring over to his brother and just about ready to bite him for that. 

“Why are you both here right now though?” The man asked, after his laughter died off, pushed away with a single tear. 

“We came to see if the man was all right,” 

“And see if perhaps we could meet with the police to better explain the situation,” Ludwig joined in. 

“There’s no need,” the man seemed rather insulted that they dared think that the police would do something. 

“We’ll deal with this,” the woman made clear, “thanks for your help, we need it to find the creature.” They got their helmets and were ready to wear them and head back to their motorcycles. 

“Wait!” Ludwig stopped them, and both of them halted accordingly. “Who are you?” he finally asked. 

“I said, were the ones that will be dealing with this,” she began getting on her motorcycle, helmet on her head, her companion shinning the wolf symbol on both their motorcycles. 

“Are you Vargas?” Ludwig quickly asked, before they decided to run off and all this would have been worth nothing. 

Both looked up synchronized up to Ludwig, a sense as if they were caught. They didn’t utter a word and they didn’t dare move an inch, as if any more could only show them. Seeing the wolves on their motorcycles now more clearly proved even more so who they were. They didn’t have to say anything for Ludwig to already now. 

“Heard the stories I suppose?” the man said, leaning against his motorcycle, making himself comfortable for it seemed they weren’t leaving anytime soon, much to the disappointment of the girl. 

Ludwig nodded as he moved closer, still slightly afraid that they would rush off at the closest chance they got. Not now, not when he could speak to them and be this close to finding out something. 

“You could say that,” Ludwig admitted, but it was of no importance, there was something direr to speak about. But what could he start with? There were so many questions in his head and he couldn’t pinpoint which was the most important. It left a prolonging silence, which both the hunters grew tire of. 

“So…what is it?” The woman asked harshly, wanting an immediate answer. 

“The Thirteenth!” Ludwig suddenly shouted, placing himself. 

Both the hunters shrugged, not getting what he meant by that. Ludwig had to better explain himself. 

“Thirteenth of what?” he asked.

“The thirteenth of the Vargas line, who is he or she?” And it had made sense. 

Once again the hunters looked to each other, an array of people in their minds. “From who?” 

“What do you mean from who?” 

“The thirteenth of the Vargas line existed long ago if we start with Romulus and Remus ,” the man explained, hoping that this blond stranger would know enough about them to know about their lineage at least. 

The curse did mention that it started from the one who placed the curse on his great grandfather. But how could he tell them about her when he had nothing? He began thinking, snapping his fingers and forcing himself to remember any detail that might help. 

“She, she was from Apricale, near Genova!” 

They had many family members who had lived there once, too many to even pin point and exactly see who this man was talking about. They were just to word those very thoughts when Gilbert suddenly remembered: “Rubina! Rubina Vargas perhaps?” And that had been that name that sparked their minds to think, lining up their family members in their head, thinking and counting to who would be this thirteenth. 

“How did you know that name?” Ludwig whispered to him while the other hunters spoke in Italian and began mentioning many other family members that had existed from her onward. 

“It was mentioned in that parchment you found. It was slightly blurry but I could still read the name, I tried to remember it just in case,” he whispered back. 

Indeed, he had seen the name himself, but the surname was not mentioned, so he though it unimportant, maybe a maid who had served his great grandfather in his stay. He couldn’t believe that it was actually Gilbert that remembered it and kept it in his mind. He smiled proudly for him and made a mental note to take him out for a drink by his treat. 

“Zio Augusto would be the tenth,” the man said, getting closer and thus their speech turned to English and loud so the others could hear. 

“Renata the eleventh,” the girl continued. 

“It makes Lovino the twelfth,” 

“So that would mean, Feliciano is the thirteenth.” 

He had a name! He had a person! He had someone who he could go to and finally do something about his monsters. Gilbert had the same celebration in his mind, both brothers looking to each other with such glee, one they hadn’t seen from one another since they were children and weren’t that unaware to the dangers of the monster inside them. 

“Please, you have to take us to him somehow!” Ludwig begged. 

“To Feliciano?” 

“Right now?” 

“Yes, please, it’s of dire need!” 

“Um…” the boy looked to the girl for her approval, but she obviously denied. 

“It really cannot be possible…right now,” she easily said. 

“What do you mean?” It was rather hurtful for his eyes to suddenly loose the glow he had suddenly gotten. 

“Feliciano is in a position in which we are not allowed to dispose of his location, or even talk about him,” 

“But,” the boy did really want to offer some sort of help, “we can give you a location.” 

“Sebastian!” the girl scolded between gritted teeth. 

“Elena, I’m only going to give them the base.” 

“I don’t think you should be handing out something like that. Zio Augusto has lately been wanting us to remain much more hidden,” 

“He also told us to find recruitment,” 

“I doubt these two are looking for that,” 

“We just want information,” Ludwig interrupted, “and help.” 

Elena still refused to give them such trust, intent eyes surely still questioning them, while Sebastian indeed seemed ready to hand them what they needed. 

“Please, it’s a matter to the tranquility of our lives,” Ludwig told them, and it seemed like Elena had given up. She gave a defeated sigh and simply left Sebastian to deal with this. 

Sebastian saw no ill will from them, taking out a small card from his pocket, writing down something quickly before handing it to Ludwig. It was an address, to a very specific area around the Dolomites. 

“We can’t take you directly to Feliciano, but here you would meet with his grandfather, he’s our leader,” Sebastian didn’t specify for what, but Ludwig had an idea. “Tell him what’s happening and I’m sure he’ll offer some help,” 

“But keep this location only between yourselves,” Elena warned harshly. Sebastian had to stop her from taking out a gun to truly get the scare on them. 

Ludwig nodded, a promise in his eyes that actually made her trust him if even for a short moment. 

“Again, thanks for what you told us about the creature,” Sebastian said lastly, both wearing their helmets and filling the field with sounds of engine turning and running. “We hope you find an answer,” 

“And good luck,” were their last words before they turned and headed off to the road, hoping to catch a trail of the monster before it headed off to far. 

Ludwig and Gilbert stayed still even for the echoes that still marched on in the air, working a sort of spell to keep them in place until they were truly alone to see what they were going to do. Gilbert looked into the directions that Sebastian had written, taking it from Ludwig and already plotting on his head how they were going to get there. 

“Dolomites?” He questioned. 

“Seems like it,” Ludwig turned, wanting to get back to the hotel and prepare themselves to leave instantly. 

Gilbert understood that it was no time to question, but do and go, especially when they had someone already. They couldn’t believe it, they were finally close, so close to the point that their next venture could give them the cure. 

“I feel kind of bad for them though,” Gilbert commented as they got on the hiking trail back. 

“For what?” Ludwig just didn’t care, especially not now when all he cared about was finding their way to the Dolomites. 

“They just ran off from the werewolf they were looking for. It was right in their faces,” Gilbert joked, and Ludwig joined in his laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed a chapter. But I remind once again that I am continuing to be REALLY slow with this story while I focus on Feliciano and the King of Hearts. Just be patient, this story is just as in my mind as FATKOH. I hope you enjoy!

They named their Vespa, Evelyn. Why? Because they had grown rather attached to it after that old thing had basically made them go through almost all of Northern Italy without having broken down yet. It was indeed a feat after the rather hard weight of both the men, and now especially as they made their way through high cliffs, harsh terrains and colder weather than they expected from such a sunny country like Italy. 

“What next?” Ludwig had called to Gilbert, who sat behind him as he read a map from his phone, their main goal pin pointed. 

“Uh…” he looked to the terrain, nothing but a road that continued forward in the middle of nowhere. Jagged mountains surrounded them and there was no sign of a hunter base looking building. “Well according to these directions, we should be taking a left now.” The road only continued forward, no exits whatsoever presented, and it seemed like none would be available until much later. 

Ludwig looked to that side, only but a slope that led onward to a floor that he couldn’t even see. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m following exactly the directions he had written.” It just seemed so out of place and dangerous. 

He stopped Evelyn half way, the screeches an echo continuing eerily in the lonely wind. With no presence whatsoever around them, Ludwig found it safe enough to leave it there as he gazed over to where exactly the slope lead to. Just a small creek, where a forest continued onward deeper into the hills. If they went in there they would surely get lost or hurt from whatever the unknown terrain would offer suddenly to them. He took the phone from Gilbert and looked to the directions well, and indeed they wanted them to head down this slope and continue into this forest. Just a few kilometers forward and it said they would meet with this place, but Ludwig met nothing with what his eyes could reach. 

“Did they trick us?” Gilbert had been wondering, a though that Ludwig did not want to admit to himself. 

He remained silent as he though it over, still with great determination, willing to even traverse these woods, see for himself and prove that in fact the hunters had told them the truth. 

Gilbert had been slightly terrified about that possibility. Ludwig returned back to Evelyn, and for a moment, Gilbert took a breath of relief. Maybe he wanted find another way, a good safe way that didn’t involve hurdling themselves down a dangerous slope. Ludwig returned with a bag and even heading straight to moving over the rail, holding himself well before deciding to come down. He starred to Gilbert, expecting. 

“Come on,” Ludwig insisted. 

“You want us to go right ahead?” 

“If the directions say we have to go through here, then that’s what we’ll do,” 

“In the middle of the woods, with only a bag of clothes, snacks and some of your cheap books?” Ludwig didn’t seem to mind at all. He only shrugged and steadied himself better on the ground, looking downward to see what would be his next best approach. 

Gilbert sometimes hated how overprotected he was with his brother and how he dared go anywhere with him just to see him safe. He groaned, rolled his eyes, went back to Evelyn to get his own bag and hid the Vespa somewhere on the side where hopefully no one would steal. He joined his brother and slowly, carefully and attentive, they made their way down, without an accident, arriving to the bottom at the creek with only wet shoes. Luckily they still had an early afternoon, and despite the clouding skies, had enough light to trust and let them venture confidently into this forest. 

“Are you sure?” Gilbert asked once again as they began passing the creek, stepping over new bank, now their only chance to return if they doubted. 

“Definitely.” Ludwig gave no chance for such regret. Gilbert will just have to move along with his brother. 

Into the woods they went, led mostly by a confident younger brother who was not afraid to meet whatever was out there when it meant finding the cure. They were werewolves, something more terrifying than themselves they would not meet. 

No trail was available, only but continuous amount of trees and rocks that they had to go over or move aside, making sure to keep their direction straight as they had started, as the directions said. The signal completely left the phone, so now they depended on the memory of both the map and directions. They hiked for hours, the evening turning late, their clothes already dirtied and scratched from the occasional branch. 

To Gilbert it seemed that they have climbed about a gazillion hills, but Ludwig had counted…and they had only been five. They were currently up on their sixth and already Gilbert had to crawl his way up, exhaustion taking its toll and winning a battle over Gilbert’s body. 

“Admit it, they tricked us,” Gilbert managed to shout at his brother, who still continued on unfazed and looking like he was willing to climb six more mountains. 

Damn him and his body and his exercising and working out. Gilbert did these very things as well and yet he was struggling. Now did he work out as often as Ludwig? That was debatable. 

“I’m sure it will appear ahead sooner or later,” Ludwig still confided, the top of this particular hill in reach. Maybe from there they could finally see something. 

“This last one, this last one, I swear to god,” Gilbert groaned, managing to stand as his brother and continue on if it meant rest at the top and a clear look at what would be there or not. 

Ludwig pushed on, that point coming closer and closer, in his reach now to hold and pull into. 

Finally a relief, finally a clue, and- “Fermati là!” 

A shotgun right in his face covered whatever view he was expecting to see. He halted and quickly though about an escape, but then noticed that he was surrounded by many other shotguns pointed at him, each aiming for a different spot on his body. 

“Finally, I’m here,” Gilbert reached him, and several more shotguns appeared aiming at him and the albino instantly stilled. “Oh shit,” was his simple reaction. 

None of the both sides offered some sort of movement, but stuck by intimidation and confusion. 

“Uh…” Ludwig tried to start. 

“In piedi!” he was commanded. 

Ludwig vaguely understood and stood up, pulling Gilbert by the collar to do the same. They both raised their arms into the air and took a closer look at the men and women that held the weapons. They were dressed just as the two hunters they had met back in Veneto, all in black, this time with symbols in their uniforms, of different wolves showcasing surely which part of Italy, of Europe or even the world they came from. 

They had to be…-he tried looking around for a building, but all he was met was with more people still aiming their weapon, hanging from trees or under rocks, but no such building as to hint where they came from. 

“Uh…non parliamo Italiano,” Ludwig said for all to hear, but it didn’t serve to stop their aim or offer more explanations. They pointed still as vicious and angry, and Ludwig though that a growl would serve them right at the moment, just like the very wolves they used to represent them. 

“Why are you here?” one finally asked in English. 

“We were given directions to come here,” Ludwig admitted, as Gilbert took out the paper written by Sebastian to show them all. 

One of the nearest to Gilbert took is harshly, handing it to who seemed to be the leader, who was directly pointing his gun at Ludwig’s forehead still. He examined the directions, his scowl only maddening, wrapping the paper into a ball, throwing it to the floor and smashing it with a hard step. 

“By who?” 

“Sebastian and Elena uh…Vargas?” he hoped to be the case. 

The entire group collectively groaned. 

“For what reason?” 

“We just want to talk to your leader! Please, were counting on him to help us!” 

“With what?” 

He couldn’t reveal that here, with surely a bunch of hunters who would get rid of him in a heartbeat as soon as they found out. What could he possibly say? It seemed like Gilbert was stuck in the very same dilemma. 

“Please, just let us see him, we don’t have any weapons or ill intentions, we just want to talk to him, privately.” 

To them it didn’t seem like it was enough. One was ready to shoot a warning shot, others were ready to push the stranger off the cliff and Ludwig still maintained his feet heavy on the ground, not ready to leave just yet, not when he was practically here and so close. He dared challenge their stares with his own, showing them his perseverance to stay and convince them to move forward. 

“Aw, let the boy pass, they came all this way after all,” a new voice joined, walking footsteps moving freely and towards the center of all this holding. 

At this person’s presence, all weapons came down from a single signal, the people all around feeling at better ease, some even smiling and taking breaths of relief. He walked until he was right before Ludwig and Gilbert, offering a welcoming smile despite the uniform he wore. Black as the rest, many more belts and pockets, with all kinds of ribbons and seals and a prominent silver wolf, looking much bigger and powerful than the ones the others had in their own. He seemed of age, probably around his fifties, but yet not hint of greying hair and a young attractive looking face that made Ludwig question if he was indeed the age he had though. He was rather composed compared to the others, who even with his presence still fidgeted and seemed worried over any harm that could befall from the strangers on this particular person. 

“Augusto, they are outsiders,” one told him, close and hoping to convince him. 

“Most of you started like outsiders,” he went against, not departing his gaze yet from the two new in their mists. 

“Yes, but in most of our cases-” 

“They are welcomed to come into the base,” and panicked settled in all their eyes. 

“Augusto, we don’t know what they’re here for. They might as well be plotting well to-” 

“See for yourself, they have nothing but those bags that I doubt harbor any malicious weapons,” he suggested. 

Two stood and forcefully took the bags from them to check. They turned the bags and brought everything to fall to the ground, only seeing snacks, water bottles, paper wraps, some pencils and pens, Roman history books and personal hygiene products. 

“Check them,” he commanded and two other figures touched all over Ludwig and Gilbert, trying to feel for any hidden weapon, coming out with none. 

“I believe they can be trusted,” Augusto decided, “if they dared come all the way here after directions given by our own, then surely whatever the problem might be we can help, and they depend highly on it.” He moved forward, expecting everyone to move behind him, even the two strangers. But the others, still as skeptical, maintained heavy looks on them, having them cornered so they wouldn’t be given a chance to attack or even run away. Ludwig decided to ignore all this attention in favor of trying to spot the base they were heading to. 

There was still nothing but menacing tall hills, greenery disappearing, sky darkening and only worsening his sights to see what could be out there. He could always go to the improve sight of his werewolf side, which he had learned to switch easily even without transforming fully, but it might be suspicious with all these trained hunters around them. 

The route was difficult, but it was such an ease to all of them. Jumping, walking and running on high edges with no fear hinted in their movements. Surely they knew the way well, for no mark was on the floor and he saw himself as people in the back worked some kind of concoction to make their tracks and presence disappear. 

They continued onward, until they were well kept between two tall hills that hid well in darkness what was between it. Both Ludwig and Gilbert wanted to sit down to take in what they saw, but they were still pushed forward and were not given the chance to truly look at the wonderment around them. 

It was large, edged well into the two mountains, colors to match the shadows and the very rock to camouflage well. But the structures were still evident with their bridges connecting many areas, windows with bright lights and decorative pillars to heighten their entrance and presence only to those who needed to know about it. If any of the outer buildings weren’t enough, Ludwig noticed that bridges went into the hill, seeing people come in and out from them, not to mention underground. 

How could they have possible hidden this for so long? 

As he came closer, Ludwig noticed that there was a sort of barrier over them, making them seem like they were hidden well in a cave or den…just like the dwelling or resting place of a wolf. Still, it was just not possible to hide something of this magnitude and with the amount of people he saw in there, it only made him want to question their leader on how exactly they made this possible. Some of the men they had come with dispersed elsewhere, joining the millions of others who walked this base. The two strangers still shone clear for everyone else, since they didn’t have a uniform or they just hadn’t seen them in the base before. Gilbert and Ludwig were pushed right through the center, open for all to pass and make their way to other areas of the base. All who tended to move in a rush, halted, for they were curious as to whom Augusto let pass today. 

They went through the large main doors, tall enough to reach the ceiling of the den, surely edged into the mountain. Once inside, it was much larger, with halls, stairs, bridges, even elevators and a large fountain decorating the very center. It was lavish, like the lobby of important headquarters in the government or a hotel. Every step the two Beilschmidt brothers took gave them a new impression to see, for a moment forgetting that their every step was being watched and that they were supposed to be following their leader. Everything was so beautiful and neat, they just had to stop to gaze more, a wish in them to walk through every hall and see what more secrets this base could offer. A push from those behind them didn’t give them the chance and forward they continued, through the most ancient part of the base. They could tell of its age because the walls turned into bricks, torches lighting up the halls instead of modern electricity, and tapestries that surely dated back to the Middle Ages. The people who were there dressed in different uniforms, surely those of higher standing in the group, making way for Augusto. The group that had brought them lessened to the point that only four were left for when they reached the very end, grand doors that surely belonged to a castle instead of a small hallway carved inside a mountain. They stopped and Augusto finally turned to them, a rather serious expression on his face now, away from the friendly one he held when they met him. 

“I’ll only allow one of you to speak. Decide on which one,” he demanded. Gilbert already pointed to Ludwig. “Very well then,” he nodded, motioning the four men left to keep a watchful eye on him while he talked privately to the other. He turned and placed a single hand to what seemed a lock. To Ludwig’s impression, he saw it glow alight and then open without any help of guards or Augusto himself. “Please, come in,” he told Ludwig as he advanced, the other following behind, slowly, hesitant, being watchful of even his steps and keeping eyes to every part of himself. 

The doors closed instantly and harshly behind him. It began to glow red, and he watched as several bars crossed on it and a powerful glowing red field brightened like a dangerous fire. Several torches inside the room alight with the same color, letting Ludwig look at the room despite how the lighting brought him with a sense of dread. It was dark, the only light available just enough for a good reading since the entire room was filled with bookshelves, books thrown across the rich rugs, even on the pristine couches and chairs, tables, and the grand desk decorated extravagantly to be like the throne of the entire base. Augusto took his seat, quite calmly, even as he took out a fine dagger and struck it against the desk. As it did, the very same red beam that light the torches and was the protective seal in front of the door, bounded Ludwig’s hands like handcuffs. It burned slightly, which got Ludwig groaning, but he held it wanting to prove himself strong to the leader before him. 

“I could easily tell from the moment I set eyes on you,” he started. “You’re lucky my men didn’t, or you wouldn’t be standing before me. But they don’t have the experience or knowledge I have, werewolf,” he addressed, baptizing him with that name as an insult and to make him clear of what he knew he was. 

Ludwig didn’t have anything to combat the truth, so he stood still, as calm as any human would and how he usually was, to show indeed that he didn’t come for harm. 

“But whatever it is you need, must be important enough for you and your brother to have come unarmed to the nest of werewolf hunters.” He showed great ease, leaning against his chair as if he was the only one in the room. “You are surrounded by deadly traps that I can command to kill you this instant if I wish, so when you tell me, I want the full truth and then I shall decide what I should do with you.” It didn’t help to calm Ludwig’s sudden tension, words gone all together from his tongue. 

Augusto leaned closer to the desk, pressing his shoulders on the surface with his hands holding his chin, gazing strongly to the blond. “I’m waiting.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed a chapter, woo! Still slow as ever with this, you have to be extra patient for this one. Never the less, I hope you enjoy.

As Ludwig had spoken, Augusto kept playing with the dagger in his hold. He threw it, he spun it, ready to attack at the first brisk move or any words of suspicion. Even as Ludwig had finished, the playing continued, the judgment going on in Augusto’s mind. The only of show of what he could decide rested on the knife that moved freely despite the incredible tension. 

“And you’re positive it’s my grandson that can fix this old curse of yours?” He finally asked. 

“He is the thirteenth of the line as I said.” He was positive about it. 

“What are you going to have him do?” 

Silence, he hadn’t read too much into the curse to know. He tried to focus on some sort of key in the wording, but all he had understood was simply the person. For the first time he wondered, what was it that he was even supposed to do with him? 

“I…I…” he stuttered, still in thought. 

Augusto saw clearly. He stabbed the dagger to the desk and stood. “My grandson is still a child, fifteen, protected well in a secretive location. He is being trained slowly, but I confide to you that he is not exactly keen about… all this.” When he meant all this, Ludwig assumed it was…-he looked around- whatever the hell this was. “Because of this, he is rather weak and does nothing to try and excel and has depended well on the guards and spells I’ve placed for his protection. He’s my grandson of course, I love him dearly and I cannot simply hand him over to a monster out of whim, whether to his help or not. You will have to wait until he comes to the base for his own training. No matter his fears, he will be trained for his brother and him are my heirs.” 

“And when will that be?” 

“When he turns twenty in five years’ time,” 

“Five years!” He jolted with anger, product of a coming transformation, earning a burn to where the shackles held his hands. He groaned in pain and hissed through his teeth. 

“Calm yourself boy,” Augusto warned with relative calm. 

Ludwig tried to start his usual mantra of breathing, just as the red lights in the room intensified, seeming to breath along with him. He continued, feeling as some sort of weight calmed and seemed to purify the reaching beast that was trying to crawl its way out. Augusto watched with calm, confident in the spells he had around the room. 

Ludwig’s breathing normalized, his being subsided, and the fierceness in his eyes reverted back to its calming blue. After his thoughts organized again, he recognized instantly what had happened. 

“Blood stones,” Augusto answered before he asked, pointing to the red lights in the room. “They disturb the connection that cause your transformation, but don’t look so hopeful either. If we use them too much on you and your brother, you’ll grow immune and then it would be useless.” He had already dealt with many cases. “But don’t worry, we have other ways that can help you to better control your transformations.” 

“What are you meaning to say with that?” Ludwig finally asked, words reaching his tongue once more. 

Augusto smirked, tapping a near lamp as he continued to think about the decision he had in mind. 

“The Venetian Mark, the Bronze Stare, the Eros Curl, Blood of the Land of Beauty, this all describes my grandson very well, but other than descriptions, they’re actually spells and enchantments.” He was worsening how simple Ludwig had thought it was. “I have many teachers under my command, and I know they master this magic well, but even so, it seems it’s true that it will only be my grandson’s magic that would do the trick.” He paced the room, eyes avoiding Ludwig. “My grandson knows none of that, he can barely light a simple flame. If he was to learn here, it would take him five years or more, which would-” 

“I’ll teach him myself,” he suddenly interrupted, an answer that surprised Augusto to a stand. 

“You?” He questioned, high doubt that Ludwig understood. 

He was just some random German werewolf with no human honors worth of respect, but he was willing to prove himself to earn them. 

“Teach them to me. I have five years while he get’s here, I’ll find an easier way for him to learn them quicker.” He was sure, standing as prideful as he wanted to be seen as, so Augusto could better accept his request, unknown that this was exactly what Augusto wanted to get to. 

He wore an evident smirk, that served to confuse the blond. “You think I’ll easily give away information that is strictly for the eyes of my society.” His composure suddenly turned venomous, dangerous in the red lights. 

“I’ll become a member!” Ludwig competed with dangerous looks. 

To Ludwig’s surprise, he smiled, on ease to him as he walked forward. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He placed a rather friendly hand on his shoulder, but it made Ludwig feel tricked. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ludwig, do you know what this is?” He started, moving away to give a large space between them. 

Ludwig looked around as if he could easily read it clear on the walls. “You’re hunters,” he identified. He still took more looks, now thinking about what he saw earlier outside. “But it’s more than that, it’s more complex.” Augusto was liking his answer. “It’s more organized. There’s law, there’s order, perhaps hierarchy?” Augusto only smirked, but still hoped for more. “This…this is a base, I know that, I was told, this is where it began, this is where it all started-” 

“I have to stop you there,” he raised his hand in a halt. “It didn’t start here,” he tapped his desk, “It started in Rome almost three thousand years ago, in the palatine palace, by laws and orders placed by Romulus himself. It was a sort of secret service that Romulus played a big part of, even Remus did at some point.” 

“Wait…they were real?” He was incredulous, and part of him was still doubtful. 

August smirked, pulling down his sleeve to reveal a large wolf mark that covered his arm, incredibly different from the Venetian one. 

“To us this is proof enough. We don’t take our newborns to tattoo parlors as welcoming gifts. This is as part of us as our skin, gifted to us by the gods,” he showcased it proudly, turning it for Ludwig to see, the creature ferocious, seeming living and ready attack from the flesh. 

Ludwig trusted it enough to be real, no matter how simplistic. A tattoo artist could not do something so breathing and tactical. He was afraid that if he got any closer to analyze, the wolf would come out and bite him in defense. 

“This one is known as the Imperial mark. Romulus himself held it and it’s considered the most powerful, the one that defines the leaders in the society.” Augusto was clearly proud, a smug expression as his arm continued to turn. 

“Society?” 

“The Society of Romulus and Remus of course, you’re in its main base.” 

“Main base? You mean there’s more?” 

“Across the world, boy! This one is just the biggest and where the main family is located,” 

“So there’s in Germany?” 

“Somewhere in the Black Forest.” 

No wonder his family always avoided the area. To know that they were there, hunting, killing his own and he himself could have been in their clutch. He felt such an appreciation to be alive, to have survived and reach the biggest and the main base in the world. He took that moment a breath of relief, feeling a great ease that made him comfortable even in the eyes of the biggest hunter in the society. 

“Do you perhaps wish to go there instead?” 

“No, I assume Feliciano will come here once he turns twenty,” 

“That is correct,” 

“Then I’ll stay here.” His sure decision. 

“Excellent,” he went to his desk and instantly went to find the necessary papers to begin with the officiating. He picked an old looking scroll and even a golden pen. “What about your brother?” He reminded. 

“I’ll make him join as well, were both after the same thing.” 

“I can’t have Feliciano being taught by two werewolves!” He exclaimed in worry. 

“He won’t. With all due respect Signore, I know that your main reason for taking my brother and I is for more inside knowledge on werewolves. I don’t mind this, it could be useful for us as well. My brother knows enough and he can give you and offer whatever you need. I just ask that you don’t pick either us for experimentation or testing. It is fair after we are offering our services.” Augusto nodded, placing the scroll and pen on the desk, seeming unaffected by the words. Ludwig feared he wouldn’t take them seriously. 

“All right.” 

He did quick movements with his hand, and without having touched the two items, Ludwig saw as they glowed, floating right in the air to his great impression. Augusto flew them forward to Ludwig and he finally saw that the scroll was a contract, quickly wanting his signature for the binding that would begin everything. Ludwig, hesitant as he always was, took the scroll and began to read the small letters, surprisingly turned in German for him. 

It went on with proclamations, filled with the purpose of the group and the knightly behavior they expected from the members. It explained some rules of behavior and secrecy, the positions, what one could reach, warning and risks in their lives, what they could face and what could be expected from one to defeat and conquer. The wording was ancient, surely written by the founding members of the society. He took his time reading it, which begun to annoy the leader. 

“We will deal with your housing, food, travel expenses, even clothing.” He wanted to add, reminding himself that it wasn’t mentioned in the contract. Many tended to ask, and surely it was the same concern for the blond. 

“You will deal with my transformations?” 

“Like I said, we have several ways, but once in a while we’ll have to let you and your brother transform to avoid adaptation to the spells and amulets. We’ll have areas, rooms, one of our own to watch over-” 

“I don’t want many in the group knowing,” 

“Your brother would do enough then, I’ll even offer myself if I’m not too busy. No words will escape to my men, only yours if you wish.” 

This was all becoming agreeable, the pen still floating, submissive to Ludwig’s touch as soon as his hand approached it. It fell on it, its glow disappearing, and without another second to loose, Ludwig signed his name proudly, shinning in gold as the very pen. It turned on its own, being tied in a black ribbon, heading back to Augusto’s hold for him to examine. 

“Quad vides fecisse, factum ducas,” he whispered, with each word, the glow intensifying until it combusted into dust, seeming forgotten. With an expression of finished business, he relaxed over his desk. “Welcome to the society, Ludwig Beilschmidt.” 

 

5 Years later 

 

Despite the full bus, Feliciano sat alone, up front with the watch of their group leader. He constantly stole glances back, envious of the joyful chatter between these new recruits, uncaring of what they were joining, of the dark day that was tempting rain. Many times he looked over his seat, waiting for a topic that could grant him the chance to join, only to be glared upon by his leader or to be offered some rich wine drink or even a platter with exquisite snacks that had the others’ mouths watering. But other than hunger, there was also anger, jealousy, for everyone knew well who he was. 

They avoided him, for even with his delicateness, those big, sweet, and innocent eyes, and the overall kindness and joy in his voice, there was a force of power above him, tied to his mark and family that he could do nothing to change or disguise. 

They rather evade him if meant evading any kind of trouble with the Vargas. No matter his pestering glances, no one was going to spare a word. 

He gazed to the coming peaks, a sign of their soon arrival. He settled back into his seat, straight as his leader wanted, eyes only on the road, with a rare stillness that made the leader only suspicious. 

What did he expect him to do? He couldn’t call a rebellion when everyone in the bus was expectant to this new life. He couldn’t throw himself out the window when they moved pass high cliffs. His power was weak, he knew nothing, and he definitely didn’t have anything to stop the bus or make him fly back to his hidden mansion in Tuscany. 

The bus made a sudden turn when no car was in the vicinity to watch, off the road, between the cover of trees and the raising of new hills. It began to shake, the travelers going along with its movements, laughing or looking over to see if their eyes could meet first with the base. Feliciano wanted to sink in, cover himself in blankets and forget where he was going. 

The driver continued forward, no matter harsh terrains, brooks, branches, trees, even boulders that threatened to tilt the vehicle. They seemed to all move aside for its route, until finally they reached a dark, dark tunnel onward, during which they all thought they were driving into a sure death. Feliciano cowered, wrapping his arms around him and recalling the words his mother had said about the journey, knowing well this was soon coming to an end and he would meet with those he wanted soon enough. 

After several minutes, a light was finally met, quite blinding as they were out and before their arrival. It went up a slight hill until finally it stopped, all looking up from their covered eyes and to the winding city that would from now on be their home. 

Feliciano let himself be wondered, mouth falling aghast as he starred on to the towering structure, blended to the mountain, active, intimidating, but utterly wonderful and spectacular, for a moment forgetting what this place had in store for him. 

“As you can tell, were here,” their leader introduced, looking up to the base as if it was a pride of his own creation. 

Feliciano could see in both his leader and driver a fondness that was one of returning home. They let the bus gaze on with its beginner wonder, to point, to plan, to feel the excitement of starting anew in a place as this. 

“Enough! Time to come down! Move out!” The leader commanded, and so they all picked their things and began to head out, ready to pick their luggage that the driver was putting out into the road for them. 

 

Ludwig saw him arrive from the heights of his office, where he had a large window that gave him everything from down below. Bronze curled hair, petite, young, beautiful, curious amber eyes gazing every detail of the base. So distracted he was that he almost stumbled upon his just handed luggage. 

“He’s really cute,” Gilbert commented, standing up to watch alongside his younger brother. 

Ludwig didn’t add, even as his eyes followed his coming through the entrance pillars, the usual taken wonder from new students. Ludwig saw him watch the elaborateness of the small things, of even the doors and windows, of the high carved ceiling, with knowing eyes of the art and architecture. 

A sudden knock against his door interrupted Ludwig’s own gazing of the boy, turning to meet with a fellow teacher, Ms. Héderváry. “Augusto wants you to be there for the welcoming. He says he’ll introduce you to Feliciano.” 

Gilbert smirked, but Ludwig ignored it as he moved forward. He made sure his uniform was well presented, soothed, his seals bright, belts tight, jacket fit, no hair out of place before he followed Elizabeta out, leaving Gilbert behind to lunge. 

“Lucky.” 

 

A banquet was prepared for the small group and the entire base was invited. They came for the food, the drinks, the cheery atmosphere of music and dance that brought forward laughs and joy from the past hunting sprees and killings. It was a chance to meet the newcomers, who they had a chance to recruit to their teaching or hunting groups, befriend or even flirt. It was also a chance to meet Augusto’s youngest grandson; handsome, joyous and kind to everyone’s approach. 

Still, to Ludwig, everything seemed more like a wild drunken bar than a ball room of a prestigious and secretive hunting group, especially in a night where the boss’s grandson arrived for the first time. When Ludwig entered the ball room, no one paid mind to him, they let him pass in the calm he had prepared for this meeting. 

He had been waiting for it for five years. 

Nothing about the craze around him, of hollering men and women, thrown drinks and insane dances, was enough to distract him from the straightway he took towards the table where the Vargas family sat along with other friends. They were so distracted in the conversation they didn’t even notice Ludwig’s presence as he stood rigidly in waiting. He had to cough to grab their attention. Once they did, they all shouted in greetings, some he knew coming close to hug him, kiss him on the cheek or give him a hard pat in the back. He could tell they were drunk from the heavy alcohol in their breaths. 

“Beilschmidt! Join us! Have a couple!” One shouted, offering a brand new glass for him to take, but with practice strength, Ludwig pushed it away. 

“Augusto, you wanted to see me.” 

The very man stood, ushering his grandson to stand as well, who had been laughing at his grandparent’s friends and family members drunken show alongside his older brother, who was mocking them the entire time. He sent Ludwig his usual angry glare, then a protective stare to his brother, and he swore he saw him prepare one of the daggers he hid in his sleeve. 

Ludwig pretended he hadn’t seen it. 

Lovino had come to the base two years ago, and quickly went up the ranks to a silver wolf, which was one of the highest tittles in the society for a hunter. Augusto was heavily proud of him and many already looked up to his elder grandson as the next leader they wanted. He was powerful enough to be suspicious of Ludwig since the beginning, picking up on a lot of hints that luckily Augusto would always cover up before he could reach the realization. But he still had a hunch, and it dictated well what kind of relationship he had with what was supposed to be another superior of his. But it wasn’t the matter at hand currently. 

Augusto greeted him, and alongside him, closer before him, was his young grandson, who already bore a smile much more splendid than any he had ever seen. This handsome young man was the dependence he had to break the curse and thus, he couldn’t help if he starred on rather intently. 

“My grandson, Feliciano Vargas,” Augusto finally introduced. 

Ludwig nodded, and so did Feliciano, but their greeting couldn’t be official until they took a shake of their hands. 

“Ludwig Beilschmidt,” Ludwig introduced. 

He saw him tense suddenly at the mentioning of the name, a look of petrified in his eyes that instantly worried him. Did he do something? Did he begin turning without noticing? No, he held a device that would usually warn him before he did and it hadn’t light up or vibrated. 

“Be-Beilschmidt?” Feliciano trembled. 

“Uh…yes, Beilschmidt…is something the matter?” Ludwig asked, with the calmest tone he could hold as to not let him fear any longer. Sure, he was tall, and he did have a stare that many of his students were terrified of, but he made extra sure to not do so today. 

“Is there?” Augusto decided to ask himself, noticing the way his grandson was reacting. 

“Um, no, it’s nothing, just um…thought I heard the name somewhere.” Ludwig could tell he lied, but it was enough for Augusto to leave it behind. 

“Probably a really common German name, anyways, Feliciano, Ludwig will be your instructor,” he introduced proudly, “He’s reached the golden shepherd seal, an amount of ninety-eight kills, has lead six large missions here in Italy, but also in Mexico, the United States, Estonia, Portugal and Cyprus. Eleven of his students have reached the silver wolf, groundbreaking considering the time he’s been here. He’s mastered well the use of our guns, and has even resorted to using his own strength.” He probably meant having transformed to deal with killings and missions, but he had dealt with monsters simply by punching and kicking. He had the build, he had the force, one he recognized Feliciano was staring at, as if not to panic with the rest Augusto was telling. It only terrified him instead of leaving a deep impression. 

“I couldn’t have thought of a finer man. We settled on private lessons between you two in his office or wherever he so decides and deems necessary.” Feliciano tensed once again at that. “Except for your tests and ground missions, there you will be assigned a group and other teachers that Ludwig would think worthy. Please respect his orders and behave, caro.” The hand he had on his grandson’s shoulder became harsh but soothing, as that of a grandparent, practically demeaning him as a child. “Ludwig, at the smallest misbehaviors, please let me know.” Both Ludwig and Feliciano nodded to him in approval. 

“I’ll be looking forward to your apprenticeship,” 

“Sarà un piacere, I’m also really looking forward to meeting and getting to know you. I hope we can become good friends.” 

What an innocent smile, the same that reflected in his eyes. No one had ever wished something like that when he was introduced as their teacher. Ludwig didn’t say anything else, not wanting to break whatever spirit he had for the day. He did stay for the rest of the night in the party, in welcome to the Vargas table. He had partaken in a single drink, refusing to participate in the obnoxious singing and embarrassing dancing that the others did. He was before Augusto, and before his new student, Feliciano, who smiled and laughed at this nonsense, having to control any desire or wish to join his crazy friends to please his family. He occasionally spared him a stare with a time stopping smile. Although beautiful and having him turn before Augusto could get the wrong idea, he didn’t let escape that there was a hint of fear in it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, be patient with this one, I only manage to write mostly when I have the time. Hope you enjoy!

5:30 a.m. he woke up exactly, standing as soon as the alarm sounded, trained steps to the bathroom, in order, in time, in rhythm to what he had accustomed himself to doing ever since he started in the Society. A wash, a shaving, cleaning, closet, pants, jacket, seals, weapons, straps, all black and meaning business. Ludwig looked at himself over the mirror, brushing his hair back and adding a bit of gel to keep it that way for the duration of the day. He was ready, standing with professionalism and intent, one that he was bound to keep showing in his first private lesson with Feliciano. 

Over the five years, as he learned the spells himself, as he trained others, as he examined the society’s dynamics, Ludwig created a notebook with an exact schedule on how exactly he would have Feliciano breaking the spell by surely the end of the year. That was if they kept to it, but Ludwig was confident. He would be as forceful, strong and commanding as he needed to be. 

He leafed through the pages, gazing to the physical trainings and exercises they could start with, keeping them in mind, saving the notebook in one of his many pockets. His watch beeped at six, the time Augusto had settled that Feliciano should be awake and ready to meet with Ludwig. He took a couple of breaths, ordering the dictation in his head, taking his leave and officiating the beginning to the process of his cure. 

It was common for the base to already be so active in the morning, men and women rushing to their missions, others having their breakfast and preparing for their own training, and of course, it was also time for old friends to meet, to laugh, to mock and tease. Ludwig was in no way saved from this as he made his way through the halls, clear direction to where the living quarters of main the Vargas lay. When they saw him, in handsome wear, serious and walking with his ever command and intimidating power, they actually smirked and whistled. 

“Getting all nice and proper for Feli, huh?” One dared comment. 

“You’re going to have him all by yourself, I wish I was that lucky,” one sang, added by more whistles and aw from the rest. 

“Have fun, but not too much,” one winked, followed by laughter and surely other words that Ludwig ignored and forgot the deeper he went into the halls. 

He reached silent areas, more intricate halls of old and important artifacts of wealth to the Vargas. Any other and the guards would have easily thrown him off, but Ludwig was Feliciano’s new instructor and he was given special permission from Augusto himself to enter, to wake up Feliciano himself if he wasn’t presented outside his room at the decided time. Ludwig had a hunch that he wouldn’t, so when he turned the hall and found his area empty, he tried to hide a groan, picking up a key from one of his many pockets. He just hoped he wouldn’t see anything weird. 

He knocked gently, nothing, a little bit harsher, still nothing. It seemed like he was coming in then. He placed the key, unlocked, pushed it open, hoping that the light and his towering presence, sudden in the surprisingly small room, was enough a shock to wake him up. 

“Feliciano!” He already called, his eyes falling upon the bed to find it empty. It was messed, showing to him that it had been used and the person left hastily without preparing it. He gazed to the bathroom, door hanged open, with no water running or rushing steps. A red underwear was thrown on floor, along with other items that must have fallen from one of the desks with commotion. 

Feliciano was not in the room and neither where he was supposed to meet him. Ludwig’s mind was quick in creating conclusions, being reminded of two things: One, Augusto had talked about how worried he was that Feliciano would try to escape from the base. Two, one of the reasons Feliciano was well hidden in Tuscany was worry over being kidnapped. The Vargas were a family that were constantly being chased by many of the supernatural, hoping to find a direct ending to their hunting. Feliciano was a weak target they could capture easily, and with his hold, and knowing how Augusto cared for him very deeply, the leader of the Society of Romulus and Remus would be weak and submissive to anything they would ask. If this happened, the blame would be quickly on Ludwig. Feliciano was supposed to be under his watch, he was supposed to be with him, this was supposed to be his responsibility. 

He had to go after him and find him that instant. 

 

Feliciano was careful in his walk through the base. He tried to keep his steps as silent as possible, hiding in closets, rooms, or behind tall items if any member happened to be passing by the area. He would peak and make sure halls, rooms, terraces and spaces where empty before he took his entrance, before he rushed with easy steps, all until he arrived to his place of destination. 

It was an old area, one not used to receiving the presence of people, even that of the leader. It was the only place Feliciano could move confidently, closing the large woodened and decaying door behind him, knowing well that no one would reach him, that no one would see what he was to do. 

It was a large terrace like area, designed in marble, wasted away by its years, dirtied, the white blackening like the mountain it took its base in. It was well behind the base, forgotten, unknown, surely not even Augusto knew about this place. Ruins decorated with beautiful statues and structures, with a view to the forest, to the mountains, to the horizon, absolutely stunning. Feliciano had lost himself in the sight, forgetting for a moment the real reason for his coming here. After he took a deep breath of fresh natural air, he moved to check all the statues, coming down small steps, extending the marbled tiled floors, until he found the familiar fox figure at the very end. He inspected it, recognizing, smiling in pride. 

“Kiku…” he called first, shyly and nervous, not sure if this would work. 

The statue alighted in blue, a net of electrifying lines that scanned it until it was granted movement, its fox disguise falling apart to reveal a stone made man, standing handsomely in the robes Feliciano knew him in, even the fox ears and nine tails that sprung from his head and rear. He opened his eyes alighting in a bright light before it dimmed to its usual dark color, then stretching, shaking, making himself familiar to this new kind of body. 

“I see this was successful,” Kiku worded, inspecting himself to make sure that the spell had worked. 

Once he was confident, he took sitting in the pillar that his own statue was supposed to be seated on, gazing around curiously, just as Feliciano did, trying to find a story for each and every single one of the statues there. If only he could learn to bring them to life just as he had once done with Kiku. 

“It’s great to see you here Kiku, you have no idea how more at ease I am now.” He truly smiled, the usual jump in his steps as he explored the stairs and balconies. 

“I see, how has it gone? Have you already started training? Have you been giving a group?” 

Kiku could tell by Feliciano’s instant souring and halting that it was something he rather not speak about at the moment, but they needed this information. Feliciano had to resign, with a sigh, leaving behind a statue of a half-naked woman holding what seemed to be a star that she grasped from the very skies. 

“I attended a welcoming feast yesterday, it was really nice. There were drinks, food and I got to meet a lot of good people and also…my instructor.” He suddenly stopped, nerving, eyes gazing elsewhere in a shake, seeming lost, Kiku already getting negative connotations from whoever this person was. 

“How was this person? Do you at least know what kind of group you got in?” 

“No, nonno gave me a private instructor.” Feliciano sat down on one of the steps in defeat. “I’ll only be doing the tests in groups, but the rest will be myself with Ludwig.” 

Kiku guessed that was his new teacher. “Well um…at least you’ll be given more focus and dedication, it would serve better,” 

“Yes, but I’ll be watched over twenty-four seven, which will make this harder, I probably won’t be given siestas or snack breaks.” He sighed with more betrayal, leaning his head unto his knees, wanting to release all the agitation he grew ever since he arrived to the base. 

“I doubt this Ludwig would be so harsh.” Feliciano remained silent, clear doubt to Kiku’s words. “How is he like?” 

Feliciano tried to gather words from their small meeting the night before…but it was constantly interrupted by also memories of bloodied dreams, black monsters, growls and screams. 

“He’s…really tall and…muscular, kind of intimidating,” he started. “He’s from Germany and well…very German. Blond, blue eyed, serious, strong, efficient, I mean, he has a total of ninety-eight kills and nonno told me that sometimes he resorts to using physical strength.” Feliciano tried not to show his impression, but it was enough for Kiku to imagine and understand what this man could be. All Feliciano mentioned gave him quite the high status, the kind of person his grandfather wanted more in the group, what he hoped Feliciano would become. 

Feliciano shivered, he couldn’t possibly reach to kill ninety-eight, he couldn’t possibly punch anything or even grow as tall and built as his new instructor, with seals and leadership to help others be granted the very same honors. 

“He’s pretty handsome I have to admit though,” Feliciano added, which got a chuckle from Kiku. 

“Do you think your seduction skills could get you out of this then?” Kiku wanted to hope and joke. 

“He doesn’t seem like the type, plus I’m not interested in him that way…and also...” He had to say it, if even the flashes, if even the way it had his body trembling, if even remembering all those sleepless nights. 

“He’s a Beilschmidt,” he named, like a spell of silence that brought all of the surrounding air to solidify, to slightly tremble alongside him. 

Kiku went still understanding, not sure what words to tell him for a while. 

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence, probably a common German surname.” Kiku tried to ease. 

“Nonno said the exact same thing, but still, his eyes and...even the way he moved, the way he looked at me, it was exactly like…” he didn’t want to finish, he didn’t want the images to become more vividly. 

“Your grandfather wouldn’t accept a werewolf to join the society, especially choose one as his grandson’s private instructor.” Kiku knew how Feliciano disliked hearing the word, how it only intensified what was going on in his head, but it was the only way he could slightly make him understand, to not bring him into worry, to make him still believe in a chance to what they wanted. 

“It still doesn’t erase the fact that he bears the name I’ve heard countless of times in my dreams.” 

“Maybe…maybe it could mean something else, maybe he could stop something, or…maybe it was a premonition on who would teach you to fight these things.” 

“Kiku, you know more than anyone that I don’t want to fight anything, I just want to find a way to escape-” 

“Feliciano?” 

Luckily Kiku solidified back to a fox statue before Ludwig could notice, leaving Feliciano alone in this extend, with mist coming in, darkening the few sunlight that shone in the area. It made the loneliness stronger, and being with only Ludwig there, it made him become more frightened, nervous to come to the blonde’s figure waiting by the entrance door. He stood, pushing away any dust in his new uniform from the ruins, hoping Ludwig hadn’t seen or heard anything, his eyes darting around the area hoping to find an excuse for when he asked. 

“Who were you talking to?” 

“…Did you hear?” 

“Not enough, but I could hear you speaking, is something the matter?” 

“Uh…” The fox statue was still, with no hint of presence, making Feliciano wondered if perhaps he had taken a nap here and dreamed it all. “Nothing just um…talking to myself.” It didn’t fit well and he knew he was only making himself look crazy to his new instructor. Ludwig didn’t seem to mind though, he only shrugged; the way of people’s dealing were their own and to be respectful he knew it was best not to comment on it. 

“Did you finish with your preparations?” He quickly went to scheduling and Feliciano was compliant enough to nod. “Breakfast?” That’s when Feliciano faltered, biting his lips, his eyes escaping, Ludwig could already sense a negation. 

He took a deep breath, trying to get the cooling air of the coming mist to calm any growing rage. It was one of the many exercises Augusto had taught him, both for himself and for his transformations. “We’ll go to the dining hall and get you something, once you’re done, we’ll wait some fifteen minutes for the food to be digested properly and we’ll start immediately with your training.” 

“Yes sir,” Feliciano bowed, if even nervous, in acceptance. 

“Sehr gut, dann folge mir bitte.” He moved away, leaving the door open for Feliciano to take, and so he understood that he wanted him to come along. 

He began his climbing back to him, but maintaining his gazes continuous on the statues, hoping he could send some kind of apology to Kiku for having to leave like this. Ludwig closed the door for him and they continued on their way, silent, Ludwig’s expression forward while Feliciano’s eyes remained only on the dominance of his back, a sudden question bothering in his head. 

“How did you find me?” It was just so odd and when it was a pretty abandoned area, he knew not even Lovino would go looking for him there, yet how did Ludwig, a man that he had only met the night before, found him so quickly in such a far off place. 

“Just asked some of the members around, they saw you head this way.” 

Feliciano flushed in embarrassment, he should have been more careful when he had made his way. He just didn’t know that Ludwig had an enact sense of smell that could track down scents for miles and miles, something that he had strengthen well in his five years in the society. 

 

After their short breakfast, Ludwig took Feliciano to a heightened balcony, with vines, flowers and grass covering the stone and part of the mountain it took. There was an amazing breeze, a comfortable silence away from any of the rushing and distractions of the lower base, but despite so, harsh equipment didn’t stood so far, all which Ludwig brought, checked and even listed on a small journal he held. 

Yes, he had everything, not to be used all today but they had weeks together for that. He stowed the little book in his front pocket, gazing then to Feliciano, who was in turn distracted with the view of the rising sun over the horizon, greeting and coloring the expanse of this territory. Ludwig had to cough to get his attention. 

“All right, I think it’s safe to begin.” Hands behind his back, breathing and bringing to his stature an energy of authority, one that had Feliciano suddenly intimidated, but it was just how he started with his students, even if this time he only had one person in his ‘class’. “Now, as a Vargas, I expect you to already know the purpose, meaning, goals, clauses and laws expected of the membership of somebody in this group.” He neared, hoping that his words were set clear. “I do not have to repeat pledges, but I cannot instantly drag you into hunter teachings, were taking this step by step, starting with physical training.” He pointed to all the equipment he had brought and Feliciano found sense in it that made him cringe. “After I deem your body and stamina right enough, we will start with different sessions on your power, weapon wielding, monster study and research, hunting techniques…and geography.” It was already causing Feliciano’s mind to spin and get headaches. 

Ludwig reached for a clipboard that hanged with the rest of the equipment, he quickly showed it to Feliciano, a table was present, a schedule of the kinds of pounds and numbers Feliciano was expecting to carry and do as he grew, the miles he should run, how his body should look by next month, all such high expectations that made him want to cry. 

Ludwig put it down, stretching and cracking, determined to start that instant. “We’ll begin with your strength training today.” 

Feliciano had to hold down any loud whimpers. 

Ludwig made him do pushups, squats, shoulder presses, lunges, kickbacks and different exercises that he hadn’t even known existed until that day. Was he successful? Definitely not. By some miracle he managed at least six pushups…when Ludwig was expecting twenty. It was the same with the rest of the exercises, he only managed a small amount or sometimes none, cringing, shouting in pain and hopelessly stopping thinking he was going to break something. Ludwig was clearly not happy about this, shown in the way he shouted, screamed, swung his hand as if ready to whip him to continue. About time for lunch, he checked his schedule and expectations, seeing that Feliciano had reached none of the promised points he held, that most of his students would have already reached by then. He thought about just continuing for the day, but he knew it could strain him, he was currently breathing heavily, lying against the ground as if he just drowned. It was best he rested, perhaps for tomorrow things would change now that he at least knew the exercises. He had to quickly reorganize his schedule but surely he could arrange things to not hold them back from his one year goal. 

“That’s it for today,” he announced as he closed the book in finality. 

Although Feliciano groaned, it was one of relief, resting upon the floor and still trying to ease his breath from everything he had done. 

“Really?” A light of hope in his eyes, Ludwig actually felt kind of bad for having to destroy it once he presented to him a large book. 

The cover showed various diagrams of human muscles, as well as skins and certain points of interest for relaxation or even attacks. “Why are you giving me an anatomy book? I thought you said you were going to leave these teachings for later.” 

“I meant putting it into practice, this is just reading and testing, putting you ahead, I can’t have you the whole day exercising but I can’t have you doing nothing either.” Ludwig began to pick up some things to place in his satchel to leave. “This anatomy book is a special one that not only teaches you about your own body, openings for your power to energize and how you can even relieve aches, but it also shows paralyzing and simple control tricks you can use against your enemies, no matter the kind, some without even the use of magic. Just basic things to heal and attack if anything, but don’t count on this as your only defense teaching, there are several others, just thought we could start with this.” 

Feliciano turned the book intrigued, already curious to how all these things could work, all on the palm of his hand to learn, turning the pages fast as if it could tell him instead of having to read it all. 

“I want you to write a two page report of the first chapter for tomorrow morning.” 

Any ease Feliciano held flew off to the wind. “What?” 

“A two page report on the first chapter for tomorrow, are we clear?” This time he seemed to threat, bearing the command into Feliciano’s figure, letting him know he was serious and he was to obey to his. Feliciano wanted to complain about the time, the suddenness, how they just started, but with his continuing angry expression it was clear that he wouldn’t care about all that, he just wanted instant results. 

“Yes, sir,” he decided on agreeing. 

“I expect to see you here around the same time next morning or I will have to fetch you at your own room and drag you here myself.” He was gone, leaving Feliciano in the spot he still sat upon, starring at the book, thinking of places he could start to read and what he should have for lunch. 

 

After having moussaka that the kitchen presented for the day, a servant had come at the orders of Augusto, asking Feliciano for his presence at the main office. It was only early noon and Feliciano arrived with deep exhaustion, carrying the book heavily, a puppy and kitty bookmark on the last page he was reading, it seemed to weigh on him as he slumped upon the chair before his grandfather, close to letting himself fall asleep right there. 

“It is almost siesta time,” Augusto reminded with a chuckle. 

“Can I sleep here then?” 

“Of course, caro, there’s a sofa right there,” he pointed, which held pillows and even a little blanket; he sometimes took his own siestas there. “But not before telling me how that first day went.” He took his chair and leaned ready to hear all the details. 

Feliciano groaned, wanting to slump down to the floor and hide himself. 

“Typical reaction from anyone who’s being mentored by Ludwig,” Augusto laughed. 

“He’s so strict, demanding, and intense, and kind of scary and there’s no such thing as breaks,” he easily complained. “He already wants me to make a report!” He raised the book insulted. Augusto dared to continue to laugh. “Am I really stuck with him as my private mentor?” He still thought he could save himself from more of this. 

“Feliciano, I don’t want you wasting your time here, you came to be taught and be a successful member of your family’s society, Ludwig showed me well that he was the best suited to form you into that, I have a lot of confidence in him.” 

“I didn’t even want to-” Any cheerful air was instantly broken with Augusto’s tightening expression, with distaste and disgust, knowing what Feliciano was to mention. Feliciano let his words fall, suddenly tremulous, shushing his voice. He shouldn’t have mentioned it, he just thought that maybe his grandfather would have thought deeper about the fact that he just didn’t belong there, but it didn’t seem likely; apparently it was more important to withhold the family honor. 

Augusto stood, easing close, taking Feliciano’s arm, unwrapping the constant fabric he had tied around the palm of his hand as a way to avoid looking. Despite its beauty he was somewhat repulsed by it. The wolf was then there, presented as it had always been from the moment of birth, the reminder that Feliciano had a great distaste for. 

“Your duty is carved on your body like the rest of us, and by order of the gods you must remain obedient to follow that command.” Augusto’s voice was sweeter this time, his caress a soft and trusting one Feliciano had known since his earliest memories. “I will have no insolence, the family name will not be changed by you. Follow your vocation, if even a position as a nurse, but you will serve this society.” He stood once again and took his chair, leaving Feliciano to wrap the fabric across his hand once again. 

The words he hated were repeated, a good holding and another push to keep him where he most despised, but he still had a desire that was strong in his mind and heart. He gripped the hand with the fabric tighter, reminding him of his wishes, of his still hopes to challenge what that mark meant. 

“This brings me to the reason I even called you here.” 

Feliciano raised his glance curious, watching as his grandfather rummaged through his many shelves until he found what he was looking for, a bounded leather book, black as the color of their uniforms, but with intricate forms of mazes, leading to the silver of a rose, beautifully crafted, taking Feliciano’s eyes into glows of wonder. 

“It is customary that I gift members of my family when they come into the base, and since I know about your interest for art, I thought it suitable to give you a sketchbook.” He pushed it across the desk to Feliciano, who instantly took it into his hands, tracing every bit of beautiful design. 

It held many pages, a perfect white paper to let any of his pencils trace, endless to the many ideas he could hold in his stay there. 

“It’s beautiful, thank you so much Nonno,” the appreciation was seem so clear in his eyes, in the adoration in his hold, not leaving the peculiar design of the rose. 

Augusto smiled, hoping that whatever he would draw there would help to ease any of the coming challenges with his teachings in the society.


	7. Chapter 7

Two months into the confinements of the society, Feliciano settled himself to the rhythm of this small hidden city. He grew a routine, he grew a way to deal with everything, from every second to every minute, one that made him alive and known to all in the base with the activeness he gave it. He sometimes wished his instructor could actually see that…maybe then his teachings would be going better. 

Although he hated rising in the early mornings, he was slowly starting to get used to waking at the very first sunlight that entered through the small window of blinds in his room. With his curls everywhere, probably hanging at the other side of the bed, completely opposite of where he had fallen the night before, he would arise suddenly, eyes wide open with a big grin that greeted the new day in anticipations. The sheets around his naked body would be a mess that only made him tumble every morning, falling to the floor a normal occurrence. Lovino, who was in the room right next to his, was unfazed by the constant bumps, going along with his own preparations uncaring. Feliciano always found a way to head out of his room alive no matter the chaos of his morning preparations, so Lovino learned he really shouldn’t care that much. 

Feliciano headed out in a haste, dressed in his black uniform, seals showing he was only in the beginning of his training, the same two leathered books in his hold. One was a type of notebook for him to use for Ludwig’s teachings and then there was the sketchbook his nonno gave him. 

By the time he did his usual running through the halls, the base was just awakening, filling it in members preparing for the day of teachings, training, healing, missions, returning or looking for some time to spend with others in different hobbies. Feliciano would greet happily those he knew, from balconies, to terraces, by fountains, to even different rooms he passed by. His first stop was the cafeteria, where most were already lining up for their breakfast, but Feliciano didn’t need to take it, there was only one particular thing he wanted. 

“Just the person I was waiting for,” their French cook turned, already holding a tray with his chocolate filled pastry and coffee. Simple, but it was Feliciano’s ideal. 

“Thank you Francis…hmmm…” he took a whiff of the coffee. 

“With a dash of Hazelnut,” Francis assured. 

“You know best!” 

“Heard you’re only missing a couple of more lessons until your power training, something to look forward with what you’re Mars heritage and everything,” 

“Yeah…” to be honest Feliciano was not really that excited to use a power that was meant for killing. “…But I also have cardio,” he groaned, utter misery that pained his muscles already. 

“You’re still in body training? That’s usually done in a couple of weeks, aren’t you going into your third month?” 

“As you can tell I’m not that good, but Ludwig got tired of waiting for my body to adjust so he decided to just go straight to the lessons and researching and hope it doesn’t strain anything for when my power training starts,” 

“Ludwig, ever the impatient one, with you it’s like he’s working under a countdown, he should take it easy, he’s being a little too harsh.” Francis petted him sweetly, a caress that reminded Feliciano of an older brother. 

Feliciano rolled his eyes, “that’s what my grandfather would have wanted though.” 

“I wish you luck as always! I’ll have a bowl of borlotti beans and sausage stew waiting at lunch for you.” Feliciano was ecstatic and already eager, but it meant that midday would just come much slower. 

Taking the tray he quickly found his usual breakfast spot, a high table decorated with flowers the servants would pick from outside. For this week they placed pink and purple carnations around the room beautifully. Oh he had to draw this! So while taking sips of his coffee and bites of his pastry, his right hand was dedicated on the drawing. He would only stop to give greetings, receiving the same comments of ‘Drawing again?’ ,‘Always with that sketchbook in hand’, ‘Distracted even when eating’. Occasionally a group of young girls would pass, to which he gave his charming smile or a wink and they all answered with the same shouting glee, giggling pass with the same waves. A group of men were just coming to join him, all with smirks and ready for any kind of flirting chance they could get. 

“Feliciano! It’s eight!” Francis shouted. 

“Oh right!” He took one last swig of his coffee and hurried off, sketching away still in his haste and leaving the boys in disappointment. 

Feliciano continued through more halls of greets, of the morning routine, of people going through here and there, with weapons, with books of power and control, magical items or even their own quick breakfast. Feliciano stood out rather odd for a Vargas, who the base was used to seeing as the symbols of power, with the most fearsome weapons, the most mysterious books, the strongest armor and an air of dignity that reminded many of emperors and kings. Yet here was the youngest hair, with the beginner uniform with no seals of earning, a friendly outlook with a kind charming beauty that was more reminiscent of a prince, holding only but two simple books, one of notes and another for his sketching. 

As always, he would suddenly stop to look at the new hoard Elizabeta was bringing in from the arrival central, holding a clipboard and marking everything that had arrived. She wasn’t surprised to find Feliciano already eyeing, looking for certain particular items that she quickly pointed to once Feliciano noticed she had been staring. 

“Good morning, Feliciano,” she wished with a chuckle. 

“Morning Elizabeta, so um…” 

“Did we get new colors and paints?” She opened the crate where they lay, the entirety filled with a rainbow of jars, pencils and markers to the sides of the highest value. “Yes, yes we did, from our Bulgarian base, made by witches, but as long as we’re concern they don’t have any kind of magical properties, just really good materials,” she introduced, taking some jars, brushes and pencils out to show him. 

“Can I…?” Feliciano pointed shyly. 

Elizabeta rolled her eyes but ended up throwing some of the materials to him, which he got safely in the cradle of his arms. 

“You’re the only one who really gives these things use, if I could I would give you the whole box.” 

Feliciano chuckled appreciative, trying to hold everything well towards his hold. 

“What kind of new drawings have you made?” She asked curiously as she kept moving boxes from one pile to another. 

“Look!” He quickly showed the last one of the carnations he was making. 

“Oh, these look beautiful,” Elizabeta complimented, taking hold from one side of the book. 

“Thank you, I’m also working on these drawings…” He turned the pages until he showed one of a Tuscan valley, two masked men fighting with elegant swords, a witch brewing a potion, going on with all kinds of stories that could fit the pictures, and finally there was a portrait, of no other than Feliciano’s private instructor, one he had taken of him in deep thought and concentration, but as powerful as he outshone to everybody. Elizabeta admitted it was amazing, something the very man should hang proudly in his office. 

“Distracted and infatuated, huh?” Elizabeta teased. 

“Oh please, no, he just happened to look perfectly handsome for that moment and I had to sketch it,” Feliciano excused, bringing the sketchbook to a close. 

“Right, right, which reminds me, don’t you have a session with him in a couple of minutes,” 

“I actually do,” 

“Then get going or else I have to listen to Ludwig complain about you coming late again,” Elizaveta rolled her eyes and with a final wave Feliciano was continuing his way down the base. 

He had been sure he would get there on time, that nothing would interrupt again his route, but his eyes suddenly caught one of the tapestries that hanged. It was of a werewolf, one resting, at peace, unlike any monstrous depictions Feliciano had seen. The image itself sparked an idea, one that he immediately acted upon by sitting on the edge of a wall, opening his sketchbook and already beginning. Yes, a kind werewolf, one that would be soft to rest upon, that would save others, with no vicious eyes and teeth, no haunting shadow fur, but a kind spirit that he could trust. He drew a similar to the one in the tapestry, although more holy, like something you would find in the glass of a church, with chance, kindness and just a creature Feliciano wished he could see more often in his dreams instead. 

“Feliciano!” He heard a fellow Jamaican member, Anthone, call, with a teasing smile, watching from afar with Sefina by his side, who was a Samoan member, giggling beside her friend. “Shouldn’t you be getting somewhere?” 

Feliciano sighed in disappointment, cursing how everybody in this base knew his schedule, perks of being the grandson of the leader he guessed. 

He stood and moved away…still sketching away on his werewolf and being more attentive to it than his actual surroundings, not noticing as he missed the spray of a fountain, as he went straight through the testing of a slicing object, somehow moving in amazing avoidance to the crowds that grew as he went through the marking place. 

Keron Montaje crashed into the day with a loud opening of his door, not caring that he almost hit a young woman coming into his same room complex. He was too preoccupied on making sure his dark hair was slicked back well, his beard and moustache trimmed to perfection, his uniform, with high shinning seals fitting in exactness to his large body, toned with experience of hunt. Behind him came his younger sister, Pisa Montaje, a more petite woman of intense dark skin, quite a large contrast to the paleness of her older brother and her very own shinning white hair. She apologized to the woman in favor of her brother, but the woman moved along with clear distaste still in her expression. 

“You should be careful,” she meekly told him. 

“About what?” Of course he hadn’t noticed and wasn’t bothering to care, now especially when he set his own attention on the routes of the base, his mind thinking about what kind of activity he should do today. Should he ask for a hunt? Should he take in a group of apprentices? Should he train that ice spell he recently learned? His mind couldn’t bother to continue thinking about these things when they instead fell on the young Vargas, making his way, soon to pass alongside him, ah yes. He tapped his sister shoulders and pointed, which earned a roll of her eyes. 

“Yes, Feliciano Vargas, drawing as per usual in that sketchbook of his.” Pisa saw no difference. 

“You fail to see that this is one of my chances,” and he began to prepare his uniform yet again, making sure his more powerful seals were shown and that the jacket was tight enough to reveal the contour of his muscles. 

“Another one of your failed attempts?” 

“Those past ones were simply not made in the right moment, he must have been distracted, stressed, no doubt Ludwig’s doing.” He always seemed to growl whenever the name was mentioned. 

“Mhm,” Pisa refused to believe. 

“Don’t doubt in me! I still stand by my own decree that Feliciano will be mine by the end of this year,” he still promised. 

“Your homosexuality has never been clearer. I don’t get the big deal, yeah I mean, sure, he’s really cute, but nothing to get all fussed about after he hasn’t shown the same interest in you.” 

“Just cute? My dear, he’s one of the human jewels of this base, going alongside Lovino, Antonio, Pedro and Herakles.” 

“Why don’t you go for those other ones then?” 

“Oh, but they don’t have his smile, his youth, his innocence, his vulnerability, he’s like a prince waiting for his rescue and who else to be that knight to save him,” he was convinced. 

“Or to have him as an excuse to get the family power and riches,” she raised an eye, not at all convinced that he was doing this out of some righteous romance. 

He glared at her and she hid a giggle under the palm of her hand. “I want him because of his beauty, his power and stature. I have proven to be just as dignified for it and will not rest until he is bedded!” He bellowed, Pisa worried that the entire base would hear it, much to her embarrassment. 

“Well you better continue proving…he just passed right by us without so much as a glance towards you,” she noticed. 

Feliciano indeed moved past them without a care, into the areas of the market filled with activity and crowds. Keron disappointed, even grew angry, sending a blame to his sister, but never mind, he could still reach him, he could find an excuse to talk. This was the marketplace, one of the places in the base with the most chatter. He also forget to mention heavily full, people constantly crashing into others, covering, sure to get lost anybody who dared defy it trying to meet another person who continued to move between it in faster speeds, with pure intent in reaching where he had to, especially when he was already late as it was. It was futile, even as he called he could not get his attention, leaving him in a groan, close to angering, shouting it on blame to somebody who was near…until his eyes fell on a table of women clearly gawking at him. It was to be expected when Keron was known as a member of high stature, a fierce handsome warrior that surely many in the base swooned over and tried to find whatever chance for his presence. These particular women called for him that moment, a ring of their hands, of their pretty eyes and bodies and soon Keron was following to join. 

These will make do, he would have Feliciano another time. 

The only time Feliciano really crashed against something was the door to this particular entrance, but the action made him realize that he had arrived to where he had to. He closed his sketchbook and got the book with his work, proud of the papers he had drawn and written, actually quite excited to hand in. Into the building, up the flight of stairs and into the halls filled with presence of other higher ups, mostly teachers and instructors who didn’t fail to greet Feliciano as per usual. Ludwig’s office was one of the top ones, in a deep and singular hall meant to give the man as much privacy and space as possible, always a question as to why in Feliciano’s mind. Ludwig always expected him not to knock, his student would always just barge in, a mess in his hands, sometimes tumbling, sometimes letting something fall or dropping some other item Ludwig held in the office. He had grown a special tolerance to just work along in his writing while Feliciano tried to settle himself in the frontal chair he always let out for him.

Why was it so hard for him to just take his seat and keep still? 

Once he was finally ready, the first thing Feliciano did was present forward his work book, papers sticking out, surely the report he was supposed to work on. Feliciano opened the cover and presented the first one. “My report on the readings you sent me about the Goranka robes. All types of levels of the Balkan bases are represented.” He turned the pages so he could see the eloquent drawings he had made of the distinct dark robes. Feliciano had to admit that they were quite a beauty, sometimes making him wish he was at a higher position just to wear them. Ludwig looked on uninterested, moving it to the side to later correct. 

“My report on currency and how to properly exchange in the suddenness of a mission,” he moved it forward, Ludwig pushed it to the side as well. 

“And my report on the beginner robes of the western European bases, the Cesarina.” He pushed the final one, opening to the drawings he made of the very robes he had to wear while in the base. It was the one Ludwig examined the longest, quickly pointing his finger. 

“You drew the insignia in the belt wrong and the sleeves do not hold those designs, I think you got confused with the intermediate ones. I’ll accept it still since I have to read your writing, but I expect you to hand me a correct one for tomorrow.” He took out a book, landing it harshly on the desk for Feliciano to take, which held clearer and more specified pictures of the robe so this time Feliciano didn’t have a chance at wronging their design. Ludwig was giving him a break by just giving him pictures to better understand instead of just reading about them, but it did not erase the distaste Feliciano was feeling about this. 

“All right, that’s all your reports, now-” and he opened his hand expecting. 

Feliciano’s eyes trembled, he nervously bit his lips, one hand reaching into his pocket to get the stone, slow in taking it out, afraid of the response Ludwig would give once he saw the number presented in it. It was dropped on his palm, Ludwig brought it closer to himself to analyze, instantly a disappointed huff. 

“Feliciano, I asked you to do ten pushups, fifteen squats, and a three mile run.” Ludwig then dropped the stone harshly, his expression boiling, the results clear for both of them to see, for Feliciano to know why Ludwig was this mad. “You only ran half a mile, six squats and didn’t even do pushups, what is your excuse?” 

Feliciano sat on in silence, eyes avoiding, fingers tapping under his chair, trying to think of the proper words to tell him. 

“I got…tired,” was the weakness he could say. 

Ludwig groaned and rolled his eyes, “you are behind, Feliciano, embarrassingly so. By this point you should have already taken your first field examination, I had to beg your grandfather to extend it for two months more and decided to combine your researches and book readings. This is not easy to deal with, and I would deeply appreciate it if you could please help me to be more hardworking and punctual for what I send you. We really need to finish your first year on schedule.” He tried hard from letting his voice rise, from letting the pure rage be seen in his eyes and from even smashing his fists against the table in his desperation. Even without doing any of these things, Feliciano could sense it still, reigning like an intimidating cloud that made him tremble, biting his lips and his grips on the chair tightening. Feliciano didn’t know what to properly tell him afterwards, remaining silent, strong to withstand other words of scold, but even Ludwig was getting tiresome with this, only letting a deep sigh reign as he brought forward a hand to rub at his head. Once again he handed him the stone. 

“I’m giving you today after our lesson to fulfill the exercises, if not, I would have to go to your grandfather.” 

Feliciano had determined himself to doing so then, he really did not feel like having the added scold of his grandfather this week. He nodded and held the stone with promise and Ludwig could confide that he would do it this time…but how many times had that already happened? First time teaching a single student and already it was proving harder than having a group, but perhaps it had to do with what he was expecting from Feliciano by the end of the year. 

The Venetian Mark, the Bronze stare, the Eros curl, the Blood of the land of Beauty, the 13th…he was nowhere near to proving himself in any of these spells, as being the one to break his curse, but he would have to keep pushing and trying, he had to. 

“Our lesson today will be on vampires-” 

 

Instead of actually going to run those miles after his lesson, he found himself being called elsewhere, to a little workshop that he always found the time to visit. It was the late afternoon, by then everybody was already leaving their classes, returning from field practice or missions, from work, from researching, to head to the main dining room for dinner. Of course, Feliciano was one of those plenty that would rush off at the first calling of food, but he also knew that it was at this time that the workshop was mostly empty, only but one presence still working on, enjoying from the silence and the singularity. 

His brother hummed a song silently, a thin paintbrush working over the newly formed wood. He was at peace, he was smiling, his head surely adding and thinking to the things he could add to the craftsmanship of this sword. Feliciano took silent steps down the stairs, admiring the serene air that his brother of all people actually settled here. Not wanting to disturb it so harshly but wanting to still be a part of it, he leaned close enough to notice the blue he used, the intricacy of the handle, the shining blade and the blankness that left for more to happen. 

“Oh Lovino, it looks absolutely beautiful,” he complimented, letting his head lean closer. 

Lovino did give him a rise of his eyes, a part of him angry about his sudden entrance after he found just the right peace, but the way Feliciano admired his work made him smile and accept, letting himself grab another paintbrush with white to start on the designs of stars. 

“Thanks, but do you think it would be enough for Toris?” Lovino still faltered. 

“It’s much more than what he asked for, he’ll love it! Probably just put it to decorate in his base room instead of using it to fight.” 

Lovino chuckled, cleaning some pieces and dust from the handle, deciding that it needed some extra scrapping before he started on the paint there. “Doubt it, he’s really counting on it, there’s been an uproar of werewolves sightings in the Baltic area and he really needs this kind of weapon along with the blessing of my spell, I just overdid the design, bored I guess,” he tapped against it rather embarrassingly. 

“But it’s still so wonderful! Toris would probably give it a lot of meaning and feel so cool when using it.” Feliciano could already dream it. 

“Eh, I guess you’re right, would help to make that guy more intimidating, he needs it with all the wimps in that base.” 

“Don’t be so rude, this kind of job is not easy,” Feliciano pouted, understanding that base’s known cowardice that he felt in this more prestigious one. 

“Well they still have to get over it if they plan on staying. That kind of facing would end up killing them one day.” He went back to designing, occasionally balancing to make sure that everything still stuck together. 

Feliciano settled with just watching by taking his seat near a stool, wondered at every stroke and touch he made. 

“So hey, how were your lessons with potato bastard today?” Lovino was curious as he began with painting some purple. 

“We started on vampires,” he admitted, not wanting to groan and sadden with the rest that happened. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“I handed in my reports,” 

“Good,” 

“I have to re-do some of them,” 

“Knowing Ludwig, was it something stupidly small?” 

“Kind of.” 

Lovino rolled his eyes, “bitch.” 

“And I…um…” 

“You what?” 

“I got scolded for not doing my exercises,” Feliciano pouted. 

“As much as I dislike the potato, I agree that you have to keep working on them, it’s necessary in the field and can help you to better take tactics. So yeah, fucking work on your training,” he scolded himself, earning a roll of Feliciano’s eyes. 

“It’s not going to make much of a difference in my case,” 

“If you want to become a strong fighter, it will,” 

“But how many times have I told you that I don’t want to,” 

“Don’t start this bullshit.” Lovino didn’t feel like going at this topic again, cleaning his brushes, a sign that he would finalize on his work for the day. Feliciano decided on remaining silent, slumping against his raised knees, leaving any arguments in his head and for Lovino to go on in his cleaning. 

“What are they even serving up today?” Lovino asked as a good way to change any tenseness that might settle. 

“Vegetable stew, Oeufs en meurette, Russian salad, paella and fruit and nuts granola for dessert.” 

Lovino groaned, “I miss eating at home.” 

“I do too, I miss mamma’s Fettuccine pasta,” he could almost salivate it in his tongue as he remembered it. 

“Her gorgonzola with figs and honey,” Lovino thought he might as well join. 

“Easter lamb!” 

“And her focaccia sandwiches,” Lovino moaned and indeed he wanted to join in Feliciano’s desire to be at that familiar table once again. 

“But well…we have Russian salad,” he rolled his eyes as he finished packing everything in its bag and placing it in his locker. 

“It can’t be that bad,” 

“I can already see myself having to sneak into the kitchen tonight,” he dreaded, picking the keys and his bag to leave. 

“Can I join you?” 

“If I feel like it when I wake up.” He brought his arm around Feliciano’s neck and pulled him close to him as they made their way out. 

“Aw come on, some brother bonding time before you leave to the Baltic base to bring the sword,” 

“That trip is in two weeks, Feliciano.” 

And out they were to the routine of their dinner nights, door shut and the workshop brought into darkness and sure silence this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can manage to do some extra stuff here and there. Still on hiatus, still be patient, but please enjoy!

“All done!” Lovino proclaimed, packing the last of his bags on the trunk of the bus. 

“Now, are you sure you don’t want anyone accompanying you?” Augusto still insisted, coming close, making sure that Lovino was appropriately dressed, earlier making sure that he had packed all that he needed, even giving him some extra small weapons to keep in his pockets if anything. 

“Nonno, stop worrying, I’ll be fine, I’ve done worst trips than this,” Lovino assured, coming close to the group of people saying goodbye as they waited for the bus doors to open in preparation to leave. 

“Be safe still,” Feliciano worried just as much. 

“There’s still the wave of werewolves in the area,” Augusto reminded. 

“So? I’ve done my fair share of hunting already, I can take them,” he was confident, already tapping the pocket where he kept everything specifically for werewolves. That’s when the bus roared, when the doors opened and all the travelers began their ascend, wishing last goodbyes and hugs, one Lovino had to participate in, especially with worry warts as his grandfather and younger brother. Feliciano held the tightest and longest embrace, swaying and wanting to coax Lovino enough to staying. 

“It’ll be only two weeks,” Lovino assured him. 

“Still, I’ll miss you so badly,” Feliciano pouted on his shoulder. 

“Oh come on, you’ve dealt with months without me, what is this going to be? Tell you what, I’ll bring you a gift, just like I used to, ask away and I’ll do what I can to bring it,” he promised with that rare pure smile and loving intent in his eyes. It spread over to Feliciano, excited over the millions of possibilities he could have, that he knew Lovino would give him. He stayed pensive as he jumped in his spot thinking, licking his lips and looking above as if his sure idea could fall from the sky. 

“Flowers! Bring me the prettiest flowers you see in the trip, and I’ll make us both the most wonderful crowns,” he decided, excited already and many designs surely presented in his mind to create. 

Lovino rolled his eyes at such a childish and calm idea, but nodded in sureness, one last embrace before he decided to move away, a last wave to his family as he boarded, the last member the driver was waiting for, once having him in, already settling off to the hidden road that would soon bring them back to the bustling of normal civilization away from the lives of the base and hunt. Augusto and Feliciano didn’t leave until they saw it disappear with the darkness of the hidden tunnel, gone and to deal with everything how Lovino could. All they could wish for was luck and their uttermost blessing. 

 

No matter the personal turmoil, Feliciano was expected to go on with his usual daily lesson with Ludwig. Augusto himself had insisted and he decided on being obedient, down the usual routes of the base, into the building and up to his office, trying to erase the sadness from earlier with a blow and an opening into the room. To his surprise, he met Ludwig packing some things from his office into a small bag…which took his own seat, leaving him standing there awkwardly as he watched his instructor move about the room. 

“Um…” he tried to get his attention wondering what he should do. 

“Ah yes, Feliciano, about your lessons the next two weeks,” he worried about now as he brought his GPS to pack in a safe area, the last item in one of his pockets before he sealed it. 

“Uh…are you leaving?” Feliciano wondered as much. 

“Got assigned a mission in Lithuania,” 

“Lithuania? With all the werewolf sightings?” 

“Exactly, they need some extra hands on defending some of the smaller villages and they decided on recruiting me on that brigade,” 

“So you’re leaving?” Feliciano was startled and confused, Ludwig was not one to do his business so suddenly, especially when he was in the midst of dealing with instructing the leader’s grandson. 

“Yes, in about,” he checked his watch, “thirty minutes. My rental should be arriving then and I would head off instantly.” He went to some cabinets at the other side of the room checking if there were some weapons he should bring from the ones there. 

“For how long?” Feliciano followed him all throughout. 

“I’ll try to make it a week and a half, I already told them I can’t stay longer, I should only really be focusing on your teachings.” Done, there was nothing else to pack, he could close his bag in finalization. 

“And…what about my lessons then?” Feliciano wondered, a sudden excitement within him as he already celebrated some days of relaxation and freedom. He didn’t hide it enough as Ludwig glared and was already suspicious. 

“I’m leaving you some work to do, already numbered and organized in that folder there.” He pointed to the sole item on the desk with even a pen and pencil for Feliciano to use. 

“Really?” 

“I want it all done by the time I return, with no excuses or failure, you have more than enough time and chances to get help” he grimaced and pointed to him with insisting, command and anger, clear and absolute. 

“Still, I won’t let you deal with all this just by yourself.” He opened the door and- 

“Feli dearie!” Gilbert shouted in instant welcome, arms expanding in his self-explosion and presentation. 

“Gilbert will be substituting in the meantime, he’ll make sure you’ll be working and knows more than enough to help answer any questions you might have,” Ludwig assured, ignorant to his brother’s sudden display. 

“I’ll prove myself more than capable!” He shouted in determination with a salute as he came between them. “…being less bossy too,” he whispered to Feliciano, who chuckled but Ludwig must have heard since he glared with annoyance. 

“I have to pack some last things from my room, afterwards my rental should be here and I’ll settle off,” he accommodated in his mind as he maintained continuous sight on his watch. “Gilbert, don’t be a nuisance and Feliciano, be responsible with your work and have it all done for when I return,” 

“Will do,” Feliciano assured for now. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Gilbert winked and smiled, Ludwig trusting it enough to give a sigh of luck, a turn and away into the halls, into business and away from the base. 

Gilbert and Feliciano smirked with all kinds of tricks and ideas. 

 

With their recent time together, Feliciano found himself wishing for Gilbert to be his instructor. He was easier going, he laughed, he bolstered, he made constant jokes (although sometimes bad) and didn’t roll his eyes or groan whenever Feliciano did something wrong in his writings and reports. He would turn his chair towards him, point out easily and not have him start papers and drawings all over again. They enjoyed their working by balconies, with flourishing fauna, the fresh air and the liveliness of the people commuting in the base. Gilbert didn’t rush him, in fact, they spent most of their meetings trying to hurry up and finish whatever documents Ludwig had left for the day so they could each settle on other plans of leisure. Those starting three days had been wonderful, especially when Ludwig had left Feliciano to start a particular kind of lesson that he had been expecting for quite a while now. 

 

Feliciano dropped the old large book on the pavement, enough of a force to shake, to resound and to arise dust into the new day fresh air, coughing it away, trying to catch his breath after having to carry it from Ludwig’s office. Kiku, in his moving form, came close and peeked, spotting on its cover a wolf symbol...a Venetian mark, the very same mark Feliciano had decorated on his hand. 

“Is this…?” Kiku wondered. 

“Yes! Michelangela’s compendium!” Feliciano was proud, letting his hand trace the old leather, wondered at how beautiful it was and how it stuck well together despite the decades. 

“How did you get this? How were you even allowed?” Kiku was dumbstruck. 

“Nonno made three copies after finding it, this is one of them, the original one in his private collection, one in America and the other in the Chinese base. Ludwig left me to do a reading from this book and it gave me permission to take it out,” He explained as he finally opened it, revealing the index, titled and ordered in an old Italian, but readable and Feliciano could easily learn from it, his fingers tracing as he alighted at every word, looking for numbers and turning the pages to see how it was beautifully decorated, in extravagant letters, drawings, symbols and diagrams to go on, never missing a touch of intricacy and whimsicality. 

“It is as beautiful as it has been spoken about,” Kiku delighted, truly taken by even the paper that was used, leaning more in his watching over Feliciano’s shoulder. 

They explored the book together, going through all kinds of explanations of spells, magic, even detailed drawings of different kinds of creatures. There were basilisks, vampires, fairies, of course werewolves, but only one part, only one section was Feliciano’s purpose and main interest. He was welcomed into it with an intricate web design, one of a tree of life, a great symbol for what lay in the next pages. 

“What exactly did Ludwig tell you to do?” Kiku still questioned and wondered. This was not a book to be given to just anyone, especially a beginner like Feliciano. 

“Just read, we’ll be starting on healing for when he returns and he said there’s a lot of things here that can make it easier for me for when I start,” 

“How much?” 

“Just two pages, but…” he gave Kiku a teasing smirk, enough to let him know that Feliciano was not going to limit himself, not when this book held something that he had been craving for so long. 

Anxious he was, he quickly read his part for Ludwig’s homework, enough for the testing that he should ask at some point from Gilbert, before discarding, going on with the pages, the words, the charts, step by step explanations, an amazing concentration that didn’t budge even as Kiku floated around him. It was rather odd, but exciting and a chance for Kiku to see a side of Feliciano others rarely saw. His side of dedication, intelligence and calculation that was best Kiku moved aside to not disturb a single line of his thoughts and learning. 

Feliciano spent a good amount in the book’s hold, giving a tap here and there, a hum, an alight, until finally at one moment he laid it upon the floor, a new dedication and smile. 

“What is it?” Kiku wondered, quite startled. 

“I think I got it! I think I know how to properly life awaken!” He announced proudly. 

Holding to the book, he stood up and chose from one of the many statues in the terrace, one of a young man, with long waved hair, a particular curl rising from his center forehead, more modern with the glasses and war uniform he wore. 

Kiku followed behind him curious, “who is he?” 

“It’s the newest of the statues, made after World War II. It was erected to honor a Canadian soldier that had helped the base greatly in being protected from an air raid, my great grandfather wrote many good things about him and there’s a very old picture of him with Nonno as a baby.” 

“So you decided on choosing him long before?” 

“Yes, he seems very kind and noble, I wonder what kind of person he could really be.” Feliciano gazed up, letting its form assure him yet again, before he kneeled, placing the book properly before him, reading the enchantment and spell well. With a breath of relief, with a centering, a focus, he got it. 

“Feliciano…are you sure?” Kiku still questioned. 

“I’ve been using my power long before getting here, Kiku, I know my limitations, I know what I can do,” Feliciano was sure, starting his release with his closed eyes, relaxed figure, lost still in himself. 

“Yes…but you’ve been doing this without proper instruction and guidance.” It was one thing that worried Kiku ever since Feliciano started testing this back when he was eight years old, when he made him awaken. But as always, it was like he didn’t listen to his words, he continued on. 

A light glowed from the palm of his hand, focusing it forward as he let it lay on the statue, releasing beads of magic unto it, brightening and brightening until everything in their vicinity was left blinded. It was sudden and harsh, it distracted Feliciano, and thinking he was done, he let himself stop, to settle, to try and find vision as the strong light subsided. Kiku was in the same state despite being a spirit, for the first time in a while having to shake himself and let his whole being make use to the darkening of this terrace once again. Once it was all gone, they met with the statue not standing on its pedestal by the small stairs, but lying face down on the floor, arms and legs splayed, for a moment both wondering if it had just fallen without any result. Suddenly there was a groan, a rising of the head, adjusting his new eyes to fluttering, to watching, with big questions and surprise surely. He moved about his head, his arms causing a rise, the rest of the body joining along in its standing, still analyzing, still letting his eyes explore. Feliciano reacted to this by shrilling, jumping and letting even his arms bounce in the air in his own congratulation. 

“Look Kiku, I did it! I did it! I did it! I did it!” He even hugged Kiku, spinning him in his delight, despite the huge shock that was in Kiku’s expression as if he had been shot. 

Feliciano then quickly let go, deciding to offer his help for the now alive statue to stand, while Kiku composed himself, fixing his robe and trying to pretend nothing had happened. 

“Oh, you look so good, and nice, and pretty, are you okay? Did the process hurt? I really tried my best and I’m so sorry if I did. Do you have any memories? Do you know your name? How are you feeling?” Feliciano pestered on as he examined, taking his arm to weigh, touching, spreading, so close that the now lively statue was feeling uncomfortable, especially when he was still examining everything anew, trying to find his own independent movements, even speech. 

“Um…uh…” his gentile voice could only utter, looking around as if some obvious hint could speak for him. 

“Feliciano, calm down, one thing at a time, he’s still adjusting,” Kiku commented, offering the statue a calming smile to assure there was nothing to worry about. 

“Oh yes…yes, you’re right, I-I’m so sorry, may we first ask for your name please.” Feliciano moved away at Kiku’s signal, giving the statue just what he needed to…breathe he guessed. 

These seconds gave him just enough peace and reaching, to present properly, for once with a friendly smile that showed the trust Feliciano had seem from the statue ever since he first spotted him here. 

“He-hello, I suppose it’s a pleasure, as for name, it is-” 

“Feliciano…Feliciano!” There came that distant interrupting call, surely from the halls that would lead to the terrace, an oncoming person that was unwanted to what Feliciano made here. 

“Who is that?” Kiku showed his worry clear, his eyes searching for the pillar he would take as a refuge once whatever person came in. 

“I…I don’t know.” He was sure it wasn’t Ludwig or Gilbert. He stayed as frozen, hoping it would be enough to hide his creation. Kiku doubted that this statue in its early birth could quickly learn such a skill. 

“Feliciano!” Kiku reminded with a point, earning a gasp from the young brunet as he tried to find a quick way to hide the new statue. As the steps of the coming person became stronger, Feliciano had no other choice than to pull and push the new man into the hide of a wall, away from sudden sight, from the opening bang of the door, from the new dark eyes that settled, the statue given only but a glance from his giver begging for him to remain in his hiding. 

“Ah, there you are!” The visitor greeted, taking readied strides down the steps until he stood closer to Feliciano. 

“Keron, it’s great to see you!” Feliciano delighted. 

“Likewise my dear Feli, likewise,” he smiled, taking sitting in one of the pillars, settling himself for a long while and Feliciano had to try hard to hide a strain and a groan. 

“I hope I’m not being rude, but what are you doing here? Did Gilbert sent you for me to do something? I was sure I didn’t have anything for today,” 

“Oh no, no, no, I came here on my own accord,” 

“Oh, is something the matter?” 

“Oh definitely not, just wanted to see you,” he grinned uncomfortably, which made Feliciano question, tapping and leaning his foot as a show of urgency that Keron quickly caught on, deciding then to be quick about this before he lost the momentum. 

“Feliciano, have you liked your time in the base?” He thought he could start. 

“Um…I guess, I mean, I would have preferred to be somewhere else, but yes, it’s been nicer than what I expected. People are really nice, hardworking, so smart and with so much to-” 

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s all very nice. How would you find that it would be better?” He smirked, leaning now much closer in a way that only made Feliciano move back, finding it odd. 

“Um, I guess for me to leave or to just…not do all these things my grandfather wants me to do.” He was honest. 

“Really? Do you really not believe that…you could…perhaps just have someone instead to make it much more interesting?” He smirked, he leaned closer, devilish and eager. 

“Um…what kind of someone?” Feliciano was not following and Keron had to hold himself from smashing his head against one of the statues there. 

“Perhaps…perhaps you need someone like me,” he finally reached. 

“Someone like you? For what?” 

“Why, for walks across the forest, for lonely nights with just us, for whatever you crave… we could even hunt and I could let you see me fight in one of my famed killings. Anyone in the base would envy you greatly if they knew you had such an opportunity,” he coaxed, he hoped Feliciano had understood enough. 

“That um…that sounds really romantic, Keron.” Ah yes, this was going the directions he wanted. “All until…the killing and…hunting part that is,” 

“I could make some adjustments,” 

“That would be nice,” 

“Do I take that as an acceptance?” He smiled, already sounding trumpets of victory in his mind, to take Feliciano to those instant words and have him be his. 

“Keron, that is all…very kind and thoughtful of you, but I’m…doing quite well by myself and I don’t think I would need something like that to add to what I’m going through. I’m sure you could find somebody else to do all those fun things, maybe someone who likes to see you hunting,” Feliciano smiled sincerely, all while Keron’s demeanor began to fall. 

“So…you’re denying me?” Feliciano tried to think of something that wouldn’t sound so harsh or mean, but as he took a glance to the statue, who was surely nervous, peeking, close to a reveal, not to mention Kiku was also starting to stir from his position just as wondering about that interaction with this fellow, Feliciano realized he had to hurry. 

“I’m really sorry Keron, but I…don’t have that kind of interest in you and the kind of life you have here,” he revealed warily, dreading how mean he surely sounded, but he really had to hurry and he had to set straight his wishes when it came to others. 

“I also would really like if you would leave me for now, I’m doing some…studies that really need my attention and I can’t have distractions…sorry,” he leaned in apology, an intent with a beautiful shine in his eyes that was enough to not have Keron punching him. He still slammed a fist against a marbled rail, surely cracking, making Feliciano worry over the statue that hid by its side. 

“You’ll find yourself regretting this decision Feliciano Vargas, you made quite a loss today.” In a quick swish, in harshened steps, in a loud bang of the entrance door, he was gone, creating a nervous atmosphere in this place that Feliciano had liked to consider of peace. 

Finding everything clear, Kiku materialized himself fully by Feliciano’s side, and the other statue began crawling back into the light, joining them as well. 

“Who was that?” Kiku instantly questioned. 

Feliciano sighed, “it’s…nobody you should concern much about, it’s my own dealing.” His gaze then returned to the new statue, his new presence enough to alight Feliciano with stupor and want again. “Sorry, now we can properly introduce ourselves, what is your name?” 

The statue brimmed, “Mathew Williams.” 

 

Lovino closed the trunk, all the items inside safe and ready for the new trip. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay longer?” Toris asked him, his Lithuanian client to who Lovino had just brought the sword to the Baltic base. 

“A lot of members would want these items quick and I still have other items to carve back at my own base, I want to get them done as soon as possible.” 

“I’m sure they can wait, if anything we can offer our own workshop.” 

“I feel more comfortable in mine.” Lovino went forward to open the door to the driver seat of the car he was loaned. 

“If you’re settled, then very well, but please be careful on the road, werewolf activity has been very high in these areas and we have already lost some of our men to them. We had to call members from your own base to deal with them, even Ludwig is here.” 

Lovino rolled his eyes at the mentioning of his name, taking sitting and closing the door, adjusting himself before the wheel. 

“Don’t underestimate me, I’m just as capable as that bastard,” Lovino addressed him as such without a care, dreading how people wouldn’t confide in him enough just because he hadn’t reached the levels and badges Ludwig did. Lovino has only been in the base for two years, Ludwig for five, of course he would have more time to get tittles and missions. He wished his grandfather wasn’t so paranoid and worried over his protection to give him some of the harder tests and missions. 

“I wish you farewell and an immense amount of luck, send us a text or a call letting us know you drove through Poland all right,” 

“Will do.” 

It was their last exchange before Lovino turned the engine and Toris moved away, Lovino taking instant leaving into the route planned for him. A single wave and the Baltic base began to hide again in the deep forest that encircled it deeply in secrecy. It took a while for Lovino to reach a main road, and with the late hour, it was still as vacant as his thread through the forest. In his boredom he turned on the radio, messing with the satellite installed until he found some stations from Italy, jumping from some top 40’s station to the latest news about his favorite football teams. He would bang his hands on the wheel, let himself sing along without a care, the surroundings nonexistent as he let himself enjoy what would be many hours of driving to get back. 

As he swore he was soon meeting with the Lithuanian-Polish border, all his sudden joyous swaying was interrupted by the all too familiar glow of his own wolf mark. His was the Neapolitan one, spinning around his arm, most of the time covered, but the glow enough to show through his darkened clothes. It was designed specifically for him to do as such. 

He instantly stopped, the car halting in the very middle of the road. Whoever was behind could pass right through, Lovino didn’t care when he had other things to worry about. He slicked back his sleeve and saw clearly how his mark resounded in light, signaling the approach of the monsters his very line was born to hunt. He took a moment to breathe out any kind of fear, find his bravery, his hand reaching to the back, finding through the mess of weapons his riffle, his long thin sword, some freezing ponds as well as some net capturing ones. With all his items settled, he dared bring an opening to his door, weary from that very instant he met with the cold and fresh air, closing the door behind him, making anew his settlement to begin this mission, end it and bring forward a price to his base. Maybe then his grandfather will finally see, maybe then he would be granted some new level or badge. 

There was a forest right before him, dark, foreboding, every sound haunting and hinting cries of what lay inside. He took no care, he came forward, knowing steps, his weapons already pointed and prepared, being careful as to not let any breaking branch or shell or item resound, eyes watching every space, every opening, rise, below, ducking, moving aside, even jumping and climbing trees to have a better upper watch. His glow kept blinking, which meant he or she was still far, still out of area and no matter how deep he came, no matter the small cliffs, the brooks, the boulders, the hikes up treacherous hills, nothing, in fact, his glow completely stopped, which meant it surely left, off into another forest, without hints, sites, a run or a capture. Lovino groaned as he jumped down the steep of a hill, decided on returning, on moving his weapons to lay in a hanging on his back, on defeat of nothing, murmuring curses all the way. 

He knew how to return, he knew what signs to pinpoint as a lead, he wouldn’t get lost, he confided on returning. So focused he was on what he thought would be a hunt that he properly didn’t take the surroundings, the beautiful dark green under the crescent moonlight, the shines of the water, of how the rocks and boulders formed into nature’s own carved statues, into meadows, into spaces of freshness and wonder that Lovino let himself admire, let himself relax as words died out and he simply decided on wandering and watching. 

As he could spot the road from a distance, as he thought he could finally leave, his eyes instead took a sudden light of color, one he couldn’t disobey, couldn’t ignore. When he gazed to the side he saw a patch of flowers, colorful, beautiful, telling him of softness and scents that moved him forward. He thought of Feliciano, knowing he would love these, knowing that this was the gift he asked, decided on his picking, leaning down and starting a bouquet with as much as he could bring. 

As the form became much more divine, Lovino let himself grin at the smile Feliciano would surely wear once he saw this. He could already feel him jumping, shouts of excitement and crushing hugs that would refused to budge no matter his harshest threats. Was this enough? Were there enough colors? Should he pick from those others or settle with the nearest ones. Fuck it, take those white ones, the crazier Feliciano would get about it. It would add quite a heavenly touch that fitted him…also on himself, since he knew that Feliciano would surely make one of those stupid flower crowns for him too. 

There, that should do it, now to get something to hold them, maybe even some water- his mark alighted sure, bright, intense, it was here. Growls, ferocity, lurking right behind him. Lovino pushed himself away before he was crushed by the massive black figure, by the claws, by the raging teeth that begged for a bite of this lone figure in the woods. Bruises with his roll against the floor and then a hit against a near tree, but nothing, he took out his weapons from his back and aimed, beginning his slash with his sword and the firing with his gun. It was big, probably one of the largest he had ever seen, a dark coat that didn’t suit him for his aim, for it helped it camouflaged well between the shadows. The only thing that made it stand out were the clear blue eyes, shinning quite beautifully even in its hunger, in its blinding, in its want of kill. Even if they were somehow lost, they were also targeted, keeping a heavy focus on the hunter, both spinning and avoiding in jumps, trying what they could for a slash, for a weakening that could give them a cut of harsh blood. 

Hits, purpling, bits of blood flying about and coating the grass, the trees, heavy breaths, yet neither refused to back down, they continued in their clash, shouts, growls, but at one point one was to weaken, one was to fall. Lovino got a deep gush on his leg that kept oozing, slowly weakening him until it proved fatal to stand, until one push had him caged, the monster’s saliva, the blood from the cuts he managed to bring on the beast and huffs reigning down on him ready for a sweet feast, for a sated hunger. Nothing he could do had been enough, no matter some last trying kicks or punches. No, the beast held him down, baring his teeth, inching for his bite and Lovino had begun to accept. He lost, he was gone and his last aching thoughts were that he let the flowers scatter into ruin on the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

“A polar bear?!” Feliciano exclaimed, childish wonder in the way he alighted that made Mathew chuckle. 

“Yes, his name was Kumajiro, found him as a little cub who lost his mother after some hunters in my town killed her. I took him in and cared for him dearly, almost like a pet or perhaps a brother.” He remembered it all so fondly, a very sweet smile on his face that Kiku and Feliciano couldn’t help but join into, sitting before him on one of the rails, legs crossed, their attention on nothing but the new statue that Feliciano had given life to. 

It had been well over a week since his welcoming back into their living, Feliciano dedicated to their exchange, to their anecdotes, to their growing friendship that made him each day more excited to come to this hidden terrace. 

“Before I headed off to the war, I sent him off into the wild and luckily some researchers decided to keep an eye on him for me.” His eyes were then saddened, surely missing the animal, for he didn’t return to Canada after the war. 

“And you didn’t know about him again afterwards?” Feliciano asked worriedly. 

“Sadly, no, it was hard to maintain contact.” 

Feliciano joined along in that drop. 

“Maybe we can find him again,” Feliciano expected excitedly with great belief. 

“Feliciano, that was many years ago. I’m sorry to be brash, but he has been long dead, perhaps we can simply find some sort of great grandson,” Kiku made clear, not wanting to have them hope so high. 

“That’s good enough! We can do that!” Feliciano pointed, alighting once again. 

“How do you expect to do that?” 

“I’m sure with the right calls and getting the right people-” suddenly he was alone. Kiku had materialized to his fox statue, Mathew into his own, having learned to transform back after his continuous chats with them. This usually happened when they sensed the coming of another that was not Feliciano’s familiarity. He groaned, knowing someone was coming, interrupting him from his peace and fun in this base. It was Carlos, the Cuban who was one of his grandfather’s closest workers. He seemed anxious, breathing heavily, showing clear sign of hurrying his way to this area, an intense worry in his eyes that began to make Feliciano nervous. 

“Feliciano! It’s your brother!” 

He didn’t waste another breath or thought. 

Without a wave or goodbye to Kiku or Mathew, he stood and hurried alongside him to the depths of the base, between the crowds, all filled with worried whispers, especially when they spotted Carlos and Feliciano trying to make their way between, the younger brother’s eyes already brimming with tears imagining the worst. To his biggest fears, they arrived before the hospital wing, the bottom floors in the usual commotion of patients, but once they reached the upper areas, he could already feel the agitation spreading, nurses and healers going through and fro in emergency, some crying, some fighting in corners, others going into a specified room with all kinds of machines, utensils, bandages and bottles. It was before this area that Carlos stopped Feliciano, pointing to all those who gathered at surely a scene of the worst calamities. There were so many, so many in urgency and desperation that Feliciano couldn’t even figure who exactly it was they were trying to save. 

“You’ve made it!” He felt a familiar push on his shoulder, a turn to a warm chest that was relieving in this unknown emergency, one his grandfather seemed shaken enough by. 

“Nonno, what happened?” Feliciano asked. 

“Lovino, he was attacked,” 

“What?” Feliciano exclaimed enough to release himself, his eyes now begging for immediate answers, dread in the heavy grip he kept of his grandfather’s arms. 

“He was close to reaching Poland when it happened. We think his mark must have lighten up and he went hunting into the woods. The area showed a fight and clear signs of a werewolf presence…as well as Lovino’s injuries.” Augusto could feel the jolt, the panic shinning in Feliciano’s eyes as he turned to the ward where now he knew his brother was being attended. Augusto tried to keep a heavy grip on him, but Feliciano had to push himself forward, between the crowds, between all the working, uncaring to the shouts, to the denies. He could already spot red between the moving figures, on the bed, on the bandages and items they constantly used for his cleaning, all heading about with more and more, never ending. 

It was just as a nurse moved away to get another batch of their special alcohol potions when Feliciano could see his brother in the fullness of what he suffered. 

The most horrid was the deep red gash that spread from his neck to the other side of his stomach, heavy cuts on his face, bruises so strong they even bled from their purple, making this body seemed more lifeless, stronger than whatever hope Feliciano tried to keep. He choked, the tears now flowing easy down his face, his color drained to leave him in sickness. 

“No! Lovino! Lovino! Lovino!” He came close to a hold of his arm, limp, his blood quickly coating his own uniform, but it didn’t matter, not when he begged for his bettering, calling as if to wake him from a mere sleep. 

“Mr. Vargas, you must leave, you have to let us save him,” one nurse tried to dispatch him. 

“No! No! No!” He kept denying, his grip still harsh on his brother, even as a second nurse came to help the first one in his pulling out. He only let go once a third had come along, practically pushing him to the halls, closing the ward around them in strong glass to keep him from entering again. Feliciano had fallen so weak he simply kneeled to the floor, shaking, sobbing, so much it didn’t let him see, didn’t let him breathe, feel the cold, the stares he surely got or even as his grandfather knelt beside him and offered his warmth with a strong grasp and embrace. 

 

Augusto had excused Feliciano from his lesson, Ludwig relieved and even thanking his leader for giving him a chance to relax for the day as well. Any would joke and say that it was because of the usual stress his young grandson stirred, but Augusto could tell a tired and strained tone when he called him. 

Augusto reminded himself that Ludwig had just come back from a tiring mission as well…from the very areas Lovino had been attacked in. 

From his many dealings with Ludwig for the past five years, he had prepared a scheduling to his transformations, all from experiences and practices. Ludwig had thanked him dearly, it worked better to prepare him, perhaps even stop them in emergencies. Augusto knew it well, for it was with that information that he helped Ludwig in establishing the hours and days he would teach Feliciano, to avoid any kind of incidents that might have Augusto regretting his taking into the group. Now he was having one of those moments of doubt, for he recalled that Ludwig was scheduled to change around the time Lovino was attacked. He did not want to think the worst, he thought himself perhaps paranoiac and wanting immediate answers to avenge his grandson, but he had to consider everything as he would now search. 

Three days of rest Feliciano was given, and by the fourth day he still felt as dreaded as the moment he saw the state of his brother. By then they had stabilized him enough, but he had yet to waken. There were still complications arising and there had been no sureness if he would be well or if they should prepare for the worst. The last few nights had been sleepless to Feliciano, and not even a visit to Kiku and Mathew were enough to relieve him from the new storm in his mind. His worries were seen clear in his grey expression, his slump, his deflated smile as he did a routinely sitting on his chair in front of Ludwig’s desk. Ludwig could not ignore it, he was fearful of starting anything, knowing for sure that Feliciano wouldn’t pay it an ounce of attention, so what was the point? Still, his scheduling, his goal, he had been away, and then these days of rest Feliciano was given over the occurrence of his brother. Any more thought of it brought back flashes of awful memories, of blood, of shed, of a killing intent that was nestled in his monstrous form that gave him feelings of melancholy as Feliciano. He felt so impure, so unworthy of this uniform, of where he was sitting, of the flesh he could sometimes live moments of peace in, and as he turned towards Feliciano, meaning to force himself to do something, he thought himself unworthy of even being in the heir’s presence. Even in his gloom and dejection, Feliciano shone as enchanting, his curls still as immaculate, his eyes as glowing, his countenance as admirable, handsome, beautiful and angelic, shinning so to burn him into his seat of evil and darkness. 

He caused him this misery, he caused him this work he clearly did not want to be doing, he was only but another weigh that tried to take shinning colors from him, that wanted to use him for his undoing. 

He had to stop this, he couldn’t continue in this sorrow. There was work, things needed to be done, Augusto would surely question for the newest progress. He placed the folder with all the homework Feliciano had made with Gilbert in his time away on the desk, ordered and corrected, quite loudly as to awake them both from whatever was being said in their minds. 

“You did these quite well on your own,” Ludwig admitted, which earned him a sudden perk of vivacity from Feliciano. “But…” Of course, Feliciano rolled his eyes and blew a fall of curls away from his face. There was always something that went wrong. 

“I think Gilbert mistook my message. You weren’t supposed to be doing that section from Michelangela’s compendium.” Ludwig placed the book along with the notebooks Feliciano used to do his writing right in front for him to see clear what he wanted to discuss. 

“The Venetian Mark,” Ludwig brought forward the page as well as pointed to the paragraph, a section beautifully made as it was the canvas for a famous Venetian mask. Ludwig awaited for another reaction other than Feliciano’s wondered expression as he took in the steel shine of the colors and the beautifully cursive words, but he didn’t share any other words, awaiting for Ludwig’s continuation to begin his lesson for the day. 

For some reason Ludwig was expecting him suspicious, guessing everything and revealing his true nature. 

“It’s a full restoration spell,” Ludwig simply started. “Instead of focusing on wounds or bruises, this spell works by focusing on blood instead, using it as a healing potion that can bring a victim to a complete healthy state. It takes a lot of knowledge and mapping of blood vessels in the body as full complete usage of blood must take place in the spell. A single missing can cause the entire spell to fail or even worsen the victim’s state,” Ludwig explained, pointing to a drawn sketch of the circulation system glowing blue to signify usage of the spell. 

“During my time away you were supposed to create a proper vessel map to study and I could test you on, but it seems we will be learning this together.” Ludwig sounded excited, while Feliciano could already feel a headache coming. 

And it was as so that they started this lesson of return, dedicated to mapping and learning every pathway, every part in the passage of blood in one’s body. To really learn them, Feliciano had begun giving certain parts silly names to remember, writing them in his notes and getting eye rolls from Ludwig once he saw them. 

At least he was learning it. 

Feliciano was dedicated, answering well Ludwig’s testing, his spacing in thoughts having to do with the studying. Ludwig was proud, and he liked to hope the rest of the spells that had to do with his curse breaking could be this easy and attentive…as well as the rest of his lessons. 

“Why is it called the Venetian Mark?” 

Ludwig expected Feliciano to ask at some point. It was an obvious question when Feliciano himself held the Venetian wolf mark. 

“You do know that Michelangela is an ancestor of yours?” Feliciano nodded. “And you do know that every spell here is a collection from many past family members of yours.” Yes, he knew well. “This is a spell by Carlotta Vargas. Like you, she held the Venetian Mark and based this spell off her mark, as it helped with perfecting the spell,” Ludwig explained. 

“So…only those with the Venetian Mark can do the spell?” 

“Not really, it’s just easier for those who have the mark.” 

Feliciano took a moment to raise his glove and gaze to his specific mark, turning and taking every known detail about it, the same since his birth. “For me…it would be easy?” He wondered as much. 

“Yes, I’m expecting you to actually master it by the end of the week.” 

That soon? Feliciano was rather impressed by quite the high belief Ludwig had in him for this. 

“How would I know if I mastered it?” 

“By healing a victim.” Ludwig then took out a pile of papers and began looking through them. “There’s a Ukrainian woman here with minor injuries that they have already approved for you to try out the spell on. Now, I won’t let you try this until I’m extremely sure that you can do it, we have a lot of time to practice and study and there’s no need to worry about-” 

“What kind of injuries can I heal?” Feliciano interrupted, his thoughts still on Lovino. 

Ludwig was rather startled but didn’t mind answering. “Any really, no matter how intense. There’s a legend that talks about Carlotta using this spell on her recently dead husband, bringing him back as perfectly as his accident had never happened.” 

That really got the mechanism of Feliciano’s mind to work, thinking back to the wounds that had haunted him from his brother and how it connected to the images of the vessels he was studying. But not only was it this spell, no. Why not add another spell to the mixture? The life awakening. 

As he focused on some of the readings, diagrams, he could already fix parts of the life awakening to work here as well, doubling the results and really assuring proper and perfect healing to the victim. 

“You said you expect me to know it by the end of the week?” 

“Yes, but we can still-” 

“What if I can do it in two days?” Feliciano wondered as well as challenged. 

“Two days?” Ludwig raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes, two days, I want to learn the spell in two days,” Feliciano persisted. 

Ludwig was still skeptic. “Feliciano, I know that holding the Venetian mark makes it easier, but I believe two days is too much. A week will be best, and it is still quicker than most,” 

“A week is too long,” Feliciano showed his fear clear. 

“For what?” 

“I just…” Feliciano was nervous to admit, playing with his fingers, keeping his eyes to ground, pensive, his mind only showing images of his fallen brother. “I need to know this spell in two days.” 

“Feliciano, it’s a lot of work to take. You’ll have to wake up earlier than usual, probably skip breakfast or lunch, stay inside this office maybe until midnight.” Ludwig honestly detested the idea. 

“I’ll do it!” Was the surprise response. “I’ll do it all! I don’t care. To learn it as soon as possible is all that matters.” The rare fire of determination for his studies was strong, one that Ludwig knew there was nothing he could do to extinguish. He wanted to go through this, and Ludwig, knowing that it also meant a spell that could break his curse, gave a defeated sigh to his request, organizing everything for the intensity they were going to take their studies for the next couple of hours. 

 

Feliciano stayed true to his promised focus. Those two days were spent in the confinements of Ludwig’s office, with nothing but books, drawings, and Feliciano’s recitation as he learned every vessel, drew them by memory, tested it on plants and grass Ludwig brought until he would settle down to sleep from exhaustion on Ludwig’s desk. Between the scattering of papers, pictures, models, fauna and even empty plates where they had their breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Feliciano would find his bed, and Ludwig wouldn’t deny it from him. Still not so tired, he went through the papers Feliciano had worked on, all done to perfection with no mistakes to find. He really outdid himself with this. Uncanny but perseverant. He hoped that he would learn from this and continue this behavior. As he looked at him, to his gentile expression, moving in and out with his breaths, occasionally breaking out a smile from pleasant dreams, flushed, adorable…yes, he was adorable. Ludwig groaned at deeming him as such, but he smiled, yet he noticed his shiver and he wouldn’t let him dare continue with that cold. On a sudden caring impulse, he removed his own uniformed black coat, stood and headed to place the mantle over Feliciano. In an instant the shivering stopped, Feliciano sinking more into that sudden warmth, absentmindedly pulling the coat to keep him more protected. Ludwig was left with only but a sleeved shirt, gazing about the office and wondering if he should get a couch for if Feliciano slept like this again. He still didn’t feel tired, and although it was wrong to leave Feliciano alone like this, he thought it best to prepare the next part of his training. Also…his hand began to pulse, claws starting a slow elongating. He decided on using one of Augustus’s charms this time to avoid any other transformation, heading off quick to get it. 

 

Feliciano awoke the next morning with strain on his body, but warm, with a lovely scent that he delved more into, smiling as he had in that garden dream. Wait, what did he had on him? He rose with a deep yawn, hands extending in a long stretch, when done landing on the coat surrounding him. He gazed curiously to it, recognizing it as Ludwig’s. 

Oh…that was so sweet of him. He had to thank him. That’s when he took notice of the fact that he wasn’t there. “Ludwig?” He called. 

Luckily he didn’t have to wait long, Ludwig arrived seconds later with breakfast in his hands. “Ah, you’re awake.” He settled Feliciano’s coffee and slice of almond cake on the desk, for himself the same drink and some pancakes. 

“When did I fall asleep?” He asked, immediately going to his coffee. 

“Sometime after midnight, one or two.” 

Feliciano removed the coat and handed it with the sweetest smile. “Thank you, it was very nice.” 

“You were cold,” Ludwig could only say, avoiding his eyes and trying to calm whatever blush could arise. He took the coat rather harshly, placing it quickly on a rack. He had gotten another coat while working on the preparations. 

“When did you fall asleep?” Feliciano asked curiously. 

Ludwig shrugged, beginning to drink his coffee, “Four, I think.” 

Feliciano almost dropped his cake. “It’s seven, you only had three hours of sleep,” he was incredulous, insulted, a little too much, Ludwig thought. 

“Don’t fret so much about it, I had things to prepare.” 

“Like what?” 

Ludwig was glad he asked. 

Once their breakfast was done, he led him forward through one of the deep halls of the base, the rocky walls around them humid, the torches more ancient, with rooms that surely hadn’t been visited in decades. Feliciano had to admit he was rather fretful. They reached the very end, a door Ludwig had easily opened despite the old hinges because of his recent visits. There was not much on the room but a rock marble table with an ancient statue laying upon it. There were no details on it, no nose, no eyes, not even properly shaped hands and feet, but it did have a sunken connection of lines throughout. Through what Feliciano had learned in his lesson, he could tell that it was an exactness to the circulation system. 

“What is this?” 

“A sort of practice dummy made by Carlotta Vargas to teach her students her own spell. Not used as much as in the past, but it works well. Through this I will test if you are capable. If you pass, we’ll move on to using the spell on an actual person,” Ludwig explained, his compulsive cleaner self continuing to rid any spec of dust on it. 

“Any person?” Feliciano asked, already placing his hands over the dummy, the stance he had studied well to take when beginning. 

“Yes, any,” Ludwig made clear once again. 

That was enough perseverance. 

“You can try out as many times as needed. I already spoke to Yekaterina and she told me that she can wait for the healing. Now, I suggest-” 

“Ludwig…can you please…stay silent for a moment?” Feliciano asked innocently, a smile and shine even with the command in his question. 

“Of course, sorry.” And obediently he didn’t give a word. Feliciano suddenly getting commanding like that…was giving him a tingling feeling he would have preferred to push out. 

Once Feliciano was assured of the silence, he only filled it with easy breathes, then commanding the magic through his body to work. Proof of its beginning was in the glow through his gloved hands, where surely his wolf mark was brightening in power. A glowing light of blue began in the dummy’s stomach, right where Feliciano’s hands were over. Like a magnet, Feliciano pulled the thin blue lines through all the crevices, staying longer on the difficult ones until he had gotten enough entanglement to continue throughout the whole body. Just like that, it was done, all the crevices were covered in blue, then glowing green to show completion before it all disappeared. Feliciano found it as a sign to stop, letting his hands fall in relaxation, breathing out the slight difficulty it had been to his body. He smiled and turned over to Ludwig expecting his comments, surprised to see him completely shocked and paralyzed. 

“What?” He wondered. 

“That’s… the quickest I’ve seen somebody do a Venetian Mark…” The impression was well set in his eyes, gazing on to Feliciano as if all the details on how exactly he did it were written all over his skin. 

Feliciano raised his hands to look, impressed with his skill, glowing in a big childish smile that even made him give small little jumps. 

“So I did it? Did I do it how you wanted? Am I ready?” He seemed to beg. 

“Yes, better than how I imagined,” Ludwig admitted. 

“So that means I can use it on a person now?” Feliciano came close, desperation clear. 

“Yes, if you want, we can go right now to use it on Yeka-” 

“No!” Feliciano quickly rushed away, Ludwig’s sight catching the flap of his black coat as he exited the room. 

“Feliciano…? Feliciano!” Unsure of what he was planning to do, he ran and tried to reach him. “What are you thinking of doing?” He shouted as he spotted him already taking the stairs at the end of the hall. 

“I’m going to heal my brother!”


End file.
